


for the first time

by mixedfandomfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Architect!Louis, Artist!Harry, M/M, Panic Attacks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, harry has a cat but i forgot to write about the cat i just realized, louis also has a dog, louis and harry are both dumb as fuck, louis is trans, mentions of past bullying/assault, mostly its just fluff, theres some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixedfandomfics/pseuds/mixedfandomfics
Summary: The first Harry that Louis met was at his third school in as many years, and had shoved Louis’ head into the toilet when he walked into the mens restroom. Some slurs had been used, but the whole incident was kind of blurry thanks to the concussion he got when his head hit the tile floor.The second Harry was a TSA agent when Louis was sixteen, returning from a trip abroad. The agent had smirked at Louis passport. “Layla, huh? Should think about dressing a little more feminine, no guy is gonna want you looking like that.”Louis doesn’t want to see if “third time’s the charm” applies here. He’s finally secure in his life and happy, and he doesn’t want the heartbreak if his soulmate is just another bigot that wanted Layla and not Louis. Sue him for avoiding the pain.





	for the first time

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit the monster is done.
> 
> I have so much more in my head for this fic, but my fingers didn't cooperate. I hope you enjoy what I was able to write down. 
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta Ella, and to caverlywrites for the prompt <3
> 
> My only disclaimer- while I am genderqueer, I am not transgender and therefore did not delve into themes that I felt that a transgender person could have written about with more insight than I could. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

The first time Louis told his mother he was a boy, he was six years old. It was simple—she had told him he could pick out a toy from the store, since he had been so patient with all the errands that had been run. They had gone to the bank, the pharmacy, the book shop, daycare to pick up Lottie, and finally the supermarket, and Louis didn’t throw one fit. His mum had a bit of spare cash from the last paycheck, so she let him pick out one thing. Louis went straight for the dinosaur lego kit. Jay was never really one for policing what her children wanted, but Louis had several similar sets already, so she gently suggested a new doll. 

“No, mum, dolls are for girls,” Louis said simply, inspecting the box of legos. He was funny that way, far too analytical for someone so young.

“Layla, darling, you are a girl.” Jay said, holding her breath as she waited for the answer. 

“No I’m not. I’m a boy.” 

And, well. It’s not like Jay hadn’t seen it coming. She knew her children. 

“Boys can play with dolls,” Jay had simply shrugged. What else was she supposed to say, really? This wasn’t a conversation for a supermarket aisle. “Why not get a new football, dove? Yours is getting worn out, and you’ve got lots of legos.” 

Louis considered this, before nodding. “Yeah, all right,” he relented. He carefully placed the box back on the shelf with a last, wistful look, and went off to find a football. Jay watched her eldest with a fond smile and put the legos in her shopping cart after all. It was on sale, and he really had been good. Getting two toys on occasion never hurt anyone. 

The second time Louis told his mother he was a boy, he was eleven years old. Dinner had been eaten and the little ones had been coaxed into the bath, and Jay was laying in bed, simply exhausted from the day. She held off sleep a little longer as Louis crawled into bed next to her, clutching a library copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. This was their time—strictly mother-son time. The two had just reached the part where Harry found the diary, and Louis read aloud carefully, hardly ever tripping over words. The chapter ended and he carefully slid his bookmark into place before resting his head on his mother’s shoulder. 

“We learned about King Louis at school today,” he told her quietly, eyelids heavy as his mother combed through his choppy brown hair. She had nearly cried when she found him standing over the sink a month earlier, cutting off his hair with dull kitchen shears, but she had dug out her hair scissors from and old drawer and salvaged the mess anyway. 

“The Sun King, right?” Jay hummed, stifling a yawn herself. Louis nodded, chewing at his bottom lip. 

“I think I want to be called Louis. I tried it a lot today and I think it’s supposed to be my name,” he whispered. 

Jay swallowed back tears, because emotionally and physically exhausted mothers cry sometimes when their daughters are actually their sons. She didn’t want him to see, to think she was disappointed, so she quickly wiped away the one that escaped and banished the rest. “Ok, dove. From now on, I’ll call you Louis. You won’t have to be Layla anymore.” 

Louis simply turned and hugged his mother tightly, hiding tears of his own in her chest. They fell asleep that way, and that’s how Mark found them—he gently untangled the boy from his wife and carried him to bed, just as he had to do almost every night. 

The last time Louis told his mother he was a boy, he was one day away from turning eighteen and they were up late, wrapping last minute Christmas presents. It was a scant affair this year—Mark had left six months earlier when Louis started his testosterone shots. Apparently, to his stepfather, Louis’ transition hadn’t been real, not until that moment. It wasn’t just that, of course. Mark and Jay had been fighting for months, but Louis still felt guilty, felt as though he was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was just Jay providing now, and Louis picked up shifts at a local used sports equipment shop to try and help out. They pooled their money to try and provide a normal Christmas for the girls, and the grandparents were a saving grace, sending some cash to purchase presents from “Santa”. It wasn’t as extravagant as previous holidays, but it wasn’t half bad.

But Louis was more worried about his birthday. Tomorrow when he woke up, he would have his mark, small and black on his body. A unique symbol with his soulmates name. 

“What if it says the wrong name?” he finally asked, putting a last piece of tape on the paper wrapped around Phoebe’s new Barbie. “On my soulmate. What if their mark says Layla?” 

“Well, if they’re your soulmate, it won’t matter to them if you used to have a different name,” Jay said matter-of-factly. “But I doubt that it says anything but Louis. The universe has a way of knowing this kind of thing,” she said simply, rubbing the white mark on her wrist, where a faded ‘Theo’ was present. She woke up on her eighteenth birthday and watched as the black mark turned white, signifying that her soulmate had passed away before she ever got the chance to meet him. Louis’ father had been a whim, a one night stand ending in pregnancy, and Mark had been an effort to find love despite not having a soulmate. Mark’s mark was white, too, a woman named Anna he lost in a car accident just before their wedding. Jay had been in the ER on duty that night, had been the one to comfort him as he learned the news. He returned a few weeks later with a thank you card and some flowers. The two were close friends for nearly two years before deciding to date.

Louis considered his mother’s words against the reality he had known so far—a constant shuffling of schools, fighting to play footie for a boy’s team, emailing with teachers before the first day of class to desperately explain, please, please don’t call me Layla, my name is Louis. Sure, he had made a few friends, ones who didn’t care that he took off his binder to sleep when they stayed over and high fived him when his voice cracked for the first time as theirs had done years ago. Two friends, to be exact, over the course of seven years and four schools. Niall and Zayn had both welcomed him into their circle, had made it possible for him to survive two years in this town, at this school. Maybe, out there somewhere, his soulmate would be like them, and wouldn’t care. 

But maybe not. Maybe it would be like the countless other kids who shoved him into lockers or kicked him in the gut, the headmasters that forced him into the girls bathroom, the teachers that grinned wickedly and said they had to use his legal name in the classroom, despite all of his arguments that they called Katherine “Katy” at her request, and called Andrew “A.J”. His mother fought for him when she could and found him new schools when she couldn’t, moved the family and sought out new jobs and made sure he had a safe place when he was home. But he still had to wake up each morning and endure the same hell all over again. 

With all of the presents tucked under the tree, Louis kissed his mother on the cheek and wandered up the stairs, crawling into his bed. He sighed and counted the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling, spaced to mimic constellations. Like clockwork, his eyes started sliding shut as he reached Aries, only counting a few of the stars before he was out like a light. 

As he woke the next morning, it took a few moments to remember that anything special was happening. First, because snow was visible out his window, it dawned on him that they were having a white Christmas. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched his legs out under the covers, he realized it was his birthday. His breath caught in his throat and he carefully opened his eyes, methodically pushing the covers off of his body, resting his feet on the floor, and going to the mirror. It didn’t take long to find his mark, his eyes found the black ink above his heart easily.

Harry. His soulmate’s name is Harry. 

 

 

Art hasn’t ever really been Louis’ thing. He had hoarded Legos and Linkin Logs and building blocks, had excelled at math in school, and generally enjoyed absolutes. Art was too open for interpretation, too reliant on variables and emotion. Louis wanted lines drawn in permanent marker, clear restrictions and black and white options. 

That wasn’t to say he isn’t creative—He was the youngest partner at his architecture firm and spent his time creating magnificent buildings, pushing the boundaries of what was accepted in the mainstream. But still, at the end of the day, he could rest easy in minimalist aesthetics, calculating angles, and solid foundations. 

So no, art wasn’t Louis’ thing. Which is why he was currently nursing a glass of wine, wandering aimlessly through the gallery, trying to understand what people saw and how they enjoyed this. He hadn’t even wanted to come, honestly, but this was the first gallery Zayn had put on all by himself, and Louis was nothing if not a supportive best friend. 

“What do you think?” A voice behind him spoke, startling Louis so badly he nearly spilled his wine. He hadn’t realized he had been standing in front of the same painting for an undetermined amount of time, some huge 6 by 6 foot monstrosity, a mess of yellows and reds and purples. Louis squinted at the small card next to it which read _“Lust”, Oil on Canvas, Harry Styles, 2018._ God, another Harry. Hopefully he wasn’t here. 

“I don’t like it,” Louis said honestly. “It doesn’t look like anything to me. Like a toddler got into someone’s paints. How is this supposed to be lust?” 

The man laughed softly, and Louis allowed himself to turn around and finally look at the stranger. “What’s funny?” Louis asked, sipping his wine as his eyes dragged over the man’s frame. He was tall, with dark curls cropped short. He was gorgeous, objectively, and Louis knew whoever shared a mark with this man was incredibly lucky.

“Nothing, nothing.” The man shook his head, dimples still cratering his cheeks. “I appreciate the honesty. It’s refreshing. I’m Harry, by the way.” He extended his hand to shake, and Louis transferred his wine glass to his left hand to accept Harry’s extended offer. 

“Louis,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly and feeling his cheeks heat up. “This is, uh. Y-your piece then. I’m sorry, I think I have a chronic case of foot in mouth.”

Harry laughed again. “Don’t apologize. Like I said, I appreciate the honesty, and I’m glad it made you feel something. Even if that something is dislike.” He bit back a shit eating grin before continuing, “Plus I just sold it for three grand, so clearly someone else likes it.” He winked. 

Louis laughed softly, swallowing back the last bit of wine in his glass, desperately wishing he was far, far drunker than this, or maybe on the other side of the country, because the mark on his chest was burning, his heart was pounding, and this man’s name was Harry. “Well, congrats,” he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably and trying his best to get rid of the blush sitting high on his cheeks.

“Can I get you another drink?” Harry offered, as if reading Louis mind. “I was headed that way myself.” 

“Oh, um. Thanks.” Louis cleared his throat again, putting his glass in Harry’s outstretched hand. “That’s nice of you.” 

Harry nodded and winked, heading back towards the bar. Louis spotted Zayn mingling a few paintings away and he desperately tried to get his attention, breathing a sigh of relief when his friend excused himself from the group of older patrons to join Louis. 

“Harry,” was all Louis managed to get out, finally letting the enormity of the situation wash over him, because his mark was still burning white hot and that was his Harry, it had to be. 

“Harry what?” Zayn asked softly, not quite catching on. “Styles? Yeah, he’s great, we met in art school.”

Louis felt his eyes flood and forced the tears back, too anxious to deal with this right now, because he has managed to avoid meeting a single Harry for ten years, and now this. “ _Harry_ , Zayn. My Harry.”

“Your—oh, god. Like, Harry Harry? Like, soulmate we don’t talk about because we’re afraid of pain and commitment, Harry?” 

Louis wrinkled his nose and smacked Zayn’s arm. “Dick. Yes, that Harry! What the fuck do I do?” he hissed, regaining control of his emotions and straightening out his button down.

“Well, talk to him!” Zayn insisted, glancing over to the bar where Harry was chatting with a buff, soft looking man. 

“No!” Louis shot that idea down. “He didn’t react at all when I said my name, so clearly he’s either got the wrong name or I’m not his soulmate!” 

“Well, did you react when he said his name?” Zayn asked, raising one eyebrow and scarily resembling Jay. 

“Obviously not!” Louis groaned, peeking over Zayn’s shoulder nonchalantly to make sure said man was still occupied. “I’m not saying anything unless he does.”

At the other end of the wide gallery, Harry gripped Liam’s arm tightly to get his attention, before letting out a quiet whine at the discomfort he was feeling on his ribs. “Li. Liam,” he whispered, rubbing his mark desperately to try and get some relief from the burning. “It’s him. I just met him, it’s burning like a branding iron, but Li, he didn’t react. Didn’t even phase him when I said my name. What if we aren’t matched? What if we’re one of the accidents?” Harry was quickly growing hysterical, forcing Liam to hand him a shot and wrap his long fingers around Liam’s wrist so that the younger man could be steadied by his best friends pulse. 

 

“H, there are a thousand other explanations,” Liam reasoned, smiling warmly at his friend. “No one these days goes around with their mark visible, and this is why. Go get to know him first. Bring him a drink, play things by ear. You don’t have to tell him tonight. I’m sure he is your soulmate, and he’s just keeping it cool so you can know each other without that bias. Take a deep breath, babes, and get him his wine, hm?”

Harry nodded rapidly, his heart rate slowing to match Liam’s steady thrum. “Yeah. Okay.” He swallowed, adjusting his soft curls and squaring his shoulders, getting two glasses of the house red that Louis had been drinking. 

Time seemed to stand still as Harry crossed the gallery once more. People parted around him, the art pieces turned into blurs of color, and suddenly he was standing in front of Louis and Zayn. 

“For you,” Harry offered Louis one of the glasses, a soft grin tugging up the corner of his lip. “Zayn, man, this gallery is incredible. Thank you so much for including me in it—I never would have dreamed to end up displayed next to some of these artists,” he said sincerely, hugging his college friend tightly and kissing his cheek. “Genuinely, thank you.”

Zayn laughed and returned Harry’s sentiments. “Cut the bull, H. We all know you deserve to be here—you’re one of the best known new artists out there right now. Everyone is talking about you, and I’m honored to display your work. Angie told me your centerpiece sold, eh? Congrats.” He grinned and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “I have to go mingle some more, unfortunately. You two chat, have a good time.” He winked, before sending a more meaningful look Louis’ way and excusing himself. 

The pair was left alone in silence, and Louis took a slightly larger than polite swig of the wine. Harry had a smug smile on his face and took his own sip, shifting his weight from his right foot to his left. The silence carried on for a few more awkward moments before the pair burst into giggles simultaneously. 

“You’ve got such a creepy stare going, mate, it’s ridiculous. That’s some murder mystery level shit,” Louis accused, shaking his head and adjusting his grip on the glass. “Genuinely, you look like a frog.”

Harry tossed his head back to laugh. “Rude! I’m trying to be a gentleman. You insulted my work and you’re avoiding small talk, but I’m still here! I even bought you a drink!”

“Bought? It’s an open bar,” Louis pointed out with a snort. “You didn’t buy anything.” 

Harry shrugged. “Metaphorically bought then. A good intent purchase,” he joked, rubbing his wrist absentmindedly before bringing his glass to his lips once more. “So Louis, what do you do? Art critic? Fun sucker?” Harry winked to show he was teasing, but Louis still blushed and ducked his head. 

“Um,” Louis said eloquently, a slight blush coloring his cheeks again. “I’m an architect. A partner at Harrison and Jones.” 

“Really?” Harry’s face lit up. “That’s incredible! I have such a respect for architecture, I’m always blown away by how things are constructed. Especially old churches, you know? Like, how did they build them without machines? They’re gorgeous!”

Louis felt a grin spread across his own face, because yes, he did know. He used to spend hours pouring over the stained glass and intricate carvings of old buildings, marveling at the craftsmanship. “It took them decades,” he confirmed. “Kings ended their reigns before castles were completed. But I agree, they’re incredible. I spent a semester in Italy studying the Renaissance architecture. I could have stayed forever.” He bit his lower lip to try and stop his face from betraying how much he truly enjoyed the topic. 

“That’s amazing.” Harry smiled softly, wondering if the light in Louis’ eye was the same light that came to his own while he was painting. “What about Renaissance architecture draws you to it? I really only know the art.”

Louis took another sip of his wine and shifted his feet a bit. “The symmetry, I think,” he said after a pause. “Similar with gothic and baroque eras, but less… dramatic, I guess. They still used the symmetry and the arches and decorations, but it was toned down. They made elegant, beautiful buildings, and let the stone speak for itself from the outside. But then on the inside, like you said, all of the art somehow adds to the building instead of taking away from it. The Sistine Chapel was incredible, I gave myself a crick in my neck from looking around so much.” 

Harry smiled and nodded, taking the time while Louis was speaking to catalogue the shape of his brows, the blue of his eyes, the light shadow of stubble that accentuated his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips while he spoke. He was beautiful, truly, and Harry was quickly finding himself infatuated. 

“You’re doing the creepy frog stare again.” Louis’ voice broke Harry from his trance. 

Harry blushed and laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry. You’re just really passionate about it. I love it when people talk about things they’re passionate about.” 

Louis snorted but felt a small smile crinkle his eyes. “You’re corny,” he accused, sipping his wine as he grew pleasantly tipsy. “It’s cute.” 

“You’re cute.” Harry shrugged and grinned cheekily, trying to hide it with his own wine glass. Maybe that shot with Liam hit him harder than he thought. “Sorry, that was forward.”

Louis laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you show me the rest of your art so I can insult it?” he suggested, wandering back to the wall where Harry’s art was displayed. It made sense now that Zayn had called ‘Lust’ Harry’s centerpiece. It was by far the largest, surrounded by other paintings ranging from 3 inches square to 3 feet. 

“I like emotions,” Harry said simply. “I tend to see auras on people or associate colors with situations and feelings. So that’s what I paint.” 

Louis hummed softly, inspecting some of the paintings. “That’s really fascinating. Like synesthesia, almost?”

“Kind of, I suppose,” Harry agreed. “More in my mind’s eye, rather than truly visual.” 

Louis paused in front of a midsized oval canvas coated in soft browns and greens. The small card beside it read ‘Anne’, Oil on Canvas, Harry Styles, 2017. “Who is Anne?” he asked, waiting with bated breath. There was no price listed next to the card, which had to mean it was significant. Maybe this was Harry’s soulmate?

“My mother.” Harry smiled softly. “She’s always given off very peaceful colors. Home, ya know? I gave this one to her, but she said I should put it in the gallery.” 

Louis let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I think I can relate.” He smiled. “My mum makes me feel the same. Made,” he corrected himself quietly, swallowing thickly. It still didn’t feel real that she was gone.

Harry didn’t press for details on the correction, just smiled softly and reached out to give Louis a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. A shock zapped through both of them, and they jumped apart. 

“So dry lately, must’ve been static electricity.” Louis laughed nervously. “You got me good there, Curly.” He rubbed his shoulder and tried to ignore the renewed tingling in his mark. 

Harry matched Louis chuckle, nodding. “Must be” he confirmed, taking a larger than necessary swig of his wine. 

“Harry! Darling! I was so hoping I would see you today, I heard you had pieces here, I’ve been dying for another one. Oh, god, that centerpiece! How much?” An older woman with a thick Brooklyn accent swept in from seemingly thin air, bringing with her a cloud of perfume and the faint smell of cigarettes.

“Hi, JoyLee.” Harry laughed softly, kissing her on each cheek politely. “I’m afraid the centerpiece has already sold, my dear, but why don’t we look around and see if any others speak to you?” He winked at Louis and looped his arm through the woman’s. “Sorry,” Harry mouthed, not wanting to end the conversation. JoyLee, however, was not a woman you could say no to.

Louis smiled his understanding and raised his glass towards Harry, stepping back towards the center of the huge gallery. He spotted Zayn chatting with the puppy looking man Harry had been with earlier and migrated that way, figuring he had made enough of an appearance. Zayn was killing it; the gallery seemed to be a huge success to Louis. 

Louis rested his hand on Zayn’s back as he passed to get his friend’s attention. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m heading out, Z. Great job, yeah? I’m really proud of you.” Louis smiled softly, hugging the taller boy tightly. 

“Thanks, Lou. And thank you for coming, it means a lot.” Zayn kissed Louis cheek. “Drive safe, yeah?”

“Will do,” Louis promised, nodding once to the puppy-boy before going to collect his coat from where he had checked it. He shrugged it on and stepped into the cool air, inhaling the London air deeply. He ordered an Uber with a few clicks and lit a cigarette while he waited, puffing absentmindedly. He had taken the tube here since he wasn’t sure how much he would be drinking, but he couldn’t be arsed to deal with public transport right now. 

He watched on the map as the white sedan moved closer to his location, and put out his cigarette when it was a block away. He offered a polite hello to the driver when he got in the back seat, but was grateful when the young woman didn’t push for more conversation. It was only 20 minutes later that they were in front of his flat. He thanked her and trudged up the two flights of stairs to his door, letting himself in with the turn of a key. Ziggy, his greyhound, slinked off the couch to greet him. 

“Hi girlie.” Louis smiled, toeing his shoes off and hanging up his coat. “You look cozy. Have a good nap?” The black and white dog wagged her tail and licked his hand, not straying more than a foot from his side as he wandered to the bedroom. His jeans and button down shirt both hit the floor, and he dug a pair of sweatpants from his dresser drawer. Ziggy jumped onto the bed and curled up in her corner while Louis padded softly to the ensuite to brush his teeth. He found himself staring in the mirror at the dark ink on his left pec, where ‘Harry’ stared back at him. Somehow the mark seemed bolder, more prominent in its place above his old surgical scars.

Louis pushed the thoughts of Harry from his mind and spit the frothy toothpaste into the sink, rinsing out his mouth and and splashing some water on his face for good measure. He wandered out of the bathroom and joined Ziggy in bed, scratching the dog’s ears and smiling at the gentle thump of her tail. 

“I found my soulmate, Zig,” Louis whispered quietly. “He’s an artist. He’s really pretty, and funny. Apparently he’s talented, but that’s not my call, ya know?” he sighed. “And I just left like a fuckin coward, Zig. Didn’t ask for his number or anything. Didn’t think it was gonna be this hard, ya know? Like, I kind of assumed I would meet my soulmate at some point, but I didn’t think it would hurt this bad to leave them behind.”

Ziggy whined sympathetically and shoved her cold nose into Louis’ neck, making him squeak. “Don’t give me that. It’s for the best. I’m just preventing myself from getting hurt again,” Louis insisted, though he wasn’t sure why he was trying to convince his dog of the fact. “G’night, Zig.” He sighed after a long pause, then drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

~~~~~

 

A few weeks later, Louis found himself bent over his computer, drafting a bid for the chance to design a new building in downtown London. It was going to be some sort of luxury building with high end galleries and conference rooms on the lower floors, and the possibility of a few high end apartments on the upper floors. He was excited to toy with the concept. 

Harry hadn’t really left his mind since the gallery, no matter how hard he tried to push his soulmate out of his thoughts. When he was walking Ziggy, he wondered if Harry prefered dogs or cats. When he was in line at the coffee shop, he wondered if Harry prefered tea or coffee, and how he took it. When he passed murals on the street he wondered what Harry would think of them, and when he was at work bent over this bloody draft, he wondered what Harry might suggest. 

Louis’ phone buzzed and he used it as a welcome distraction, picking it up from where it sat face down on the edge of his desk. He pressed his thumb against the home button to unlock it and opened his messages, finding a text from Zayn. 

_Drinks tonight. 7p at the usual. Be there!!!!_

The gray bubble popped up to show Zayn was typing again.

_Niall is already coming. U backed out last time so don’t even think about it tonite tommo!!! And i want u to meet someone!_

Louis sighed. Zayn was right, he had backed out last time, and maybe even the time before that. He had been planning on working late tonight, but drinks at 7 meant he would have to leave work at 5:30 by the latest if he wanted to go home and change. 

**Who am I meeting?** Was all Louis replied. He reached for his tea and took a sip, grimacing when he found it was cold. 

_My soulmate._ Zayn typed back, followed with the suspicious moon emoji and the dancing lady. 

Louis spluttered and nearly choked on his tea, immediately pressing the call button. Zayn picked up on the first ring. 

“Fuck you, Malik,” Louis announced. “You think you can just drop that shit on me? Who? When?” he demanded, standing and stalking across his office to glare angrily out his floor to ceiling windows, as if he could spot Zayn from across the city and give him the evil eye. 

Zayn laughed nervously. “Not long, yeah? I promise we only just confirmed it to each other. But uh, his name is Liam. And we met at the gallery. The guy I was talking to when you left, actually.” 

“This is bullshit, Z. I should have been told the next morning.” Louis narrowed his eyes, only half serious. “But he was hot, I guess. Congrats, mate. I’m happy for you. And I’ll like him as long as he doesn’t move you across the country or get weird and possessive so we can’t hang out.”

Zayn grinned and shook his head, enough that Louis could hear the smile in his words. “Nah. He’s great, Lou. Really sweet. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” 

“I can’t wait either.” Louis smiled softly. “I’ve gotta finish some things up here if I want to make it on time so I’ll let you go, ok? See you tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah. Workaholic. Take a Friday afternoon off some time, it won’t kill you,” Zayn teased. “Bye, babe. See you tonight.” 

Louis smiled and let the call end, going back to his desk and resuming his work on the draft. He had a week until the bids had to be submitted, but he liked being done early. There was no way he would finish today, but he could get to a better stopping place. 

After a few more hours work, Louis wrapped up his designs and packed up his briefcase. He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, stepping out of his office. It was barely 5:30, a good hour earlier than his usual earliest time. 

“G’night, Miranda.” He smiled at the department’s receptionist. “Have a good weekend.”

“Night, Louis.” She waved. “Good to see you leaving before me for once,” she teased. “And, you too, hon, take care.” She went back to typing rapidly, probably organizing everyone’s meetings for the next week or single-handedly saving the company from collapsing. She was the best, that woman. 

Louis took the elevator to the parking garage, not really in the mood to descend twelve flights of stairs today. He pressed the unlock button on his key fob and watched as the lights flashed on his BMW. It was about a 30 minute drive to his apartment in this traffic, so he hooked his phone up with the bluetooth and sang along quietly with the music. It was so strange, being out of work this early. 

He made it to his apartment without incident and climbed the stairs to his flat, sighing in relief at the familiar environment. Ziggy trotted up to him, tail wagging, and followed him around with soft happy noises. She wasn’t used to seeing him this early either. 

“Hi my girl.” Louis laughed, crouching to be on her level. He rubbed her ears and scratched the top of her head before standing. “Uncle Zee found his soulmate too, so I have to go meet him,” he told her, as if she could understand or cared. “I might be back late. Are you hungry?” he asked her, pulling the dog food out of the pantry. 

Ziggy whuffed excitedly and did a short zoomie around the living room before sitting politely as Louis poured the measured kibble into her bowl. He grinned and patted her side fondly, laughing at her nightly routine. She lived for dinner time. 

“Enjoy, little miss. I’m going to go get changed,” he announced, wandering back to the bedroom to change out of his slacks and button down. He hung them up carefully and stood in front of his closet, musing to himself before deciding on a slightly sheer black tank top and light wash denim jeans, covering both with a leather jacket. He fussed a little with his hair, making sure the short, professional quiff he was sporting these days sat just so. He glanced at his watch, humming when he saw it was only 6:15. The pub was a ten minute walk from his apartment, so he had a few minutes to spend with Ziggy and maybe text the girls to see how they were doing. 

He ended up having a cigarette on the balcony while Ziggy watched reproachfully from the other side of the glass door, always one to make her opinions known. He smiled guiltily and stubbed the butt into his ashtray, heading back inside to sit on the couch. “Sorry, Zig,” he hummed, patting his knee until she gave up the facade and jumped up on the couch beside him, settling half on his lap. “That’s my girl,” he laughed, scrolling idly through Instagram with one hand while he pet Ziggy with the other. He hummed and watched the photos go by, liking a few here and there. He was at the weird phase of life where half of his friends were still partying and being ridiculous, while the other half were settling down and having kids. He double tapped a picture of Stan’s new baby girl, and ignored Daniel’s photo of a tray of shot glasses. He had never been huge on the party life, but lately he’d been more broody than ever, and mostly just paid attention to the kids and dogs. His mind drifted to the children he might have with Harry, little curly freckled things with bright blue eyes. 

“Nope.” He shook his head to clear the thoughts. “Not going there.” He sighed and closed the app, deciding he could probably start walking to the pub now. “I’ll be back later, Ms. Ziggy. Be good.” He found a biscuit in the pantry and tossed it to her before heading out the door and locking it behind him. 

The brisk evening air grounded him as he walked the few blocks towards their stomping grounds. He inhaled deeply and let the sounds of cars honking, puddles splashing, and people chatting wash over him. As much as he missed his family, London was his home now, more than any of the villages he grew up in were. He was at peace here amongst the hustle and bustle of daily life. 

Nothing if not punctual, Louis pushed the door of the pub open at 7:01 and made a beeline to their usual table. Zayn and Niall were already there, with a third untouched glass waiting for Louis. 

“Lads,” he greeted with a cheeky grin, shucking his coat off and hanging it on the back of the booth. 

“Hi!” Zayn beamed, knee bouncing anxiously. “Thanks for coming Lou, I know it’s earlier than usual.” 

“Anything for you, darling,” Louis said dramatically, nudging Niall on the shoulder in greeting. The poor lad looked wrung dry, and Louis remembered he was trying to piece together a musical with the drama teacher at school. 

“So when is loverboy arriving?” Louis asked curiously, looking around the bar. “You know you don’t need to make boys up to get me to come out, Zayn,” he teased. 

“You would think.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “Anyway, he’ll be here in a few minutes, he texted that he was running a bit late due to traffic.”

“Ah. Traffic,” Louis nodded sagely. “Oldest trick in the book, Z. Next you’ll tell me this mystery boy has a flat tire.” He winked, kicking at Zayn’s ankle lightly. 

“Do you ever shut up?” Zayn asked with a raised eyebrow, huffing a sigh. 

“Ah, dunno. Niall?” Louis asked, turning to face his friend. “You’ve known me a long time. Do I ever shut up?”

“To date, Tommo, I don’t believe you have ever once shut up,” Niall responded seriously, before the pair collapsed into giggles. 

“Zayn!” someone called from towards the front of the pub, causing all three to whip their heads around and Zayn to raise an arm to wave this new person over. 

Liam carefully wove through the moderately crowded room, beaming as he rested his eyes on Zayn. “Hi,” he panted, shrugging off his own coat. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He bent to kiss Zayn’s cheek, which, gross. Louis wrinkled his nose. Soulmate stuff was too cute. 

“No worries.” Zayn smiled up at the well built man. “Um, these are my friends, Louis and Niall. Lads, this is Liam. My… soulmate.” He grinned shyly. 

“Pleasure,” Liam said genuinely, slipping into the booth beside Zayn. “My best mate Harry is on his way over, he’s just grabbing another round at the bar,” he said. 

Louis froze, glass halfway to his lips, mind racing. Fucking hell. He had definitely seen Harry talking to Liam at the gallery, and what are the chances that Liam is friendly with two Harrys? Possible, he supposes, as Harry is a common name, but honestly. 

“Evening, gentleman,” a familiar, slow voice drawled, setting five fresh glasses on the table. 

Dear god. 

Louis busied himself by downing the rest of his glass, ignoring the warm presence beside him as Harry settled to the empty space in the booth. Liam settled next to Zayn, with Niall pulling up a chair at the side of the table. 

“Evening,” Niall chirped, extending his hand for Harry to shake. “I’m Niall. I belong to Zayn and Louis,” he said, stating the obvious. “Good lad.” he added, nodding towards the fresh drinks, downing the dregs of his old one as the glasses were passed around. 

“Pleasure,” Harry said genuinely, smiling at Niall. “I think you’re the only new face for me; Zayn and I had a few college classes together, and I met Louis at the gallery a few weeks back. I’m shocked Zayn and Liam haven’t met before now, seems such a small world!”

Louis snapped his head up, finally making eye contact with Harry. The mark on his chest started burning again as he heard his name leave Harry’s lips. “How’s it going, mate?” He grinned, pleasantly surprised that his voice didn’t seem to betray his panic. 

“Not half bad.” Harry smiled warmly, eyes softening as they met Louis’ blue ones. “Working on a few new pieces, exploring some new techniques.” He shrugged. “Can’t complain, life is good.” His dimples were out in full force despite the generally dull conversation Louis was providing, which, what the fuck. Who allowed dimples like that to exist on an adult man? It was entirely too much for Louis to handle.

“Nice, nice,” Louis nodded and cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’d love to see the pieces sometime.” He wanted the shove the words back in his mouth the moment they had left. Why the fuck would he say something like that? He is meant to be staying far, far away from Harry.

Zayn narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly, glancing between Louis and Harry. Far too much knowledge hid behind his long eyelashes. It was disconcerting. 

“Anyway, how’s school Niall? Kids murdered you yet?” Louis changed the subject abruptly, skin prickling under Zayn’s gaze. He hated his friends sometimes, genuinely.

Niall groaned and took a dramatic swig of his beer. “Not yet, but this may be the year, Tommo. I just wanted to do music, why did you let me apply for a primary school?” 

Louis laughed. “You love it,” he accused, ruffling Niall’s hair. “I know you do.” Louis got a shrug and a smile in response, which was confirmation enough. 

“You’re a teacher? That’s awesome mate!” Liam grinned, one hand wrapped loosely around Zayn’s waist while the other brought his glass to his lips. 

“Primary school music teacher.” Niall nodded, a ruddy blush sitting high on his cheeks now that he had a few drinks in him. “Not the most glamorous, but I like the kids and the hours.” He shrugged. “I work with some bands on the side but teaching is the day job. How about you?” he asked curiously, ready to grill Zayn’s new soulmate. 

Liam smiled warmly, genuine interest and kindness in his eyes. “That’s amazing, mate! Music is so important. I still remember my music classes from school, they were always my favorite.” He took a sip of his beer, not wanting to get too wasted tonight. “I’m just a fireman.” He shrugged modestly, never one to attract attention to himself. 

“You’re not just anything,” Zayn said firmly, squeezing Liam’s thigh. “You save lives, Liam. And houses and forests and such. It’s a very important job.”

“Don’t forget the kittens from trees,” Harry quipped with a smirk, though his eyes were full of love for his friend. He giggled slightly when Liam blushed, but Harry didn’t pursue the teasing. 

“Piss off, H,” Liam said fondly, setting his glass down precisely where the ring of condensation had collected on the provided napkin. “It was your kitten I saved, and I wasn’t on the clock.”

So Harry has a cat. Interesting. Louis brought his glass to his lips, wondering if Ziggy would get along with a cat. He wasn’t sure she had ever seen one.

“And Duchess thanks you every day for it.” Harry raised his glass in a mock toast, giggling slightly. 

The five men fell into easy conversation- Liam and Harry were quickly absorbed into the group, something that rarely happened with the close trio. Before long the decision was made to migrate a few blocks to a popular night club. Niall knew the owner so they were able to bypass the long line. In the blink of an eye, Niall, Zayn, and Liam had all disappeared to the dance floor, leaving Harry and Louis alone and unsure what to do. 

“Wanna get another drink?” Harry suggested, pitching his voice over the din of the crowd and music. 

“Yeah, ok.” Louis shrugged his agreement. He’s never been one to make good decisions, so like. Fuck it.

Harry held up two fingers towards the bartender and shouted for vodka cranberries, please, over the din of the Friday night crowd. Drinks in hand, the pair migrated away from the bar to allow more customers to file through, finding a quieter area on the balcony above the dance floor. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to dance? I really don’t mind hanging up here, you’re welcome to go have fun,” Louis offered. He sipped his drink, staining his lips red in the process. This wasn’t what he usually went for, but he had to admit it was tasty. He would have to trust Harry’s judgement on more things. 

“Nah, it’s not my scene either.” Harry shrugged, bringing his own glass to his lips. “Dancing Harry is also trashy drunk Harry, who is the life of the party, might I add, but not someone I want to be very often.” 

Louis let out a small chuckle, eyes drifting over the dance floor. He managed to make out the form of Liam and Zayn, lost in their own little world and dancing out of time with the music. It took longer to find Niall, who was mixed up in a throng of pretty girls that he was hardly paying attention to.

“You left without saying goodbye,” Harry said mildly after a period of silence. “At the gallery.” 

Louis felt his heart hit his stomach, causing a bubble of anxiety to bubble up his throat. “I, um. You.” He took a larger than necessary swig of his drink to give his brain a moment to catch up. “You were busy, and I-” he stammered out, alcohol hazing the panic he would be feeling if he were sober. 

“Lou, relax,” Harry said kindly, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I’m only teasing, this isn’t the inquisition. You were free to leave whenever you liked. I enjoyed talking with you, is all.” He reached over to squeeze Louis shoulder, causing another sharp shock to course through them. 

Louis managed to mostly hide the jolt that went through his body, busying himself with his drink again. He shrugged sheepishly. “I enjoyed talking with you too,” he confessed, squirming slightly under the awkward blanket that was enveloping them. 

Harry couldn’t hide his joy at that statement, his hand still tingling where he had touched Louis and a happy buzz running through his veins. He wasn’t sure whether it was the close proximity to his soulmate or the alcohol or both, but he was on cloud nine. “Good. I’m glad,” he said simply, a cheesy smile stuck on his face. 

Comfortable silence fell over the pair, both tapping their feet to the beat of the music that was playing but not giving in and moving to the dance floor. The song faded into a dance remix of some pop song, and Louis found himself singing along quietly to the parts he could distinguish.

“D’you ever think about other people’s stories?” Harry asked curiously, breaking the silence. “Like, that bloke over there.” He pointed across the dance floor below them, indicating a middle aged guy with Elton John style sunglasses, a tight leather shirt, and white bell bottoms. He was standing at the edge of the dance floor, not moving a muscle and simply staring into the crowd. “What’s his deal?”

Louis grinned. “His name is Sergio. He’s about to hit 50, and it’s making him regret giving up his childhood dream of being a dance instructor. Now, with age, he’s lost all sense of rhythm, so every night he goes to a new club to watch people dance in the hopes he’ll get it back.”

Harry let out a sharp bark of laughter, bending over as his face lit up in delight. His drink sloshed a bit, though the pink liquid was too empty to spill completely over. 

Louis giggled slightly at Harry’s reaction, downing the rest of his own drink. “Glad you think I’m funny,” he teased slightly. “Ok, now it’s your turn. Do those two.” He indicated a pair of young women, one tall and slim with a spiky pixie cut, full sleeve of tattoos, and a black lace dress; the other shorter and curvy with a blonde bun and cropped lavender top paired with high waisted black leggings.

Harry smiled. “Samantha is the tall one. You’re only allowed to call her Samantha, she hates Sam. She owns a boutique in downtown London and collects cat figurines. Cameron is the blonde one—she plays guitar in a folk rock band on weekends. Her day job is as a PA for the mayor of a small town and she loves to garden. She’s in town for her best friends bridal shower. They’re soulmates who just met for the first time.” A soft look came over Harry’s face—it looked as though he wasn’t far off on that point. ‘Samantha’ had covered her mouth with her hands, and then moved them to her cheeks, a huge smile stretching over her lips. ‘Cameron’ looked just as awestruck- Louis managed to make out the phrase “But you’re so beautiful.” On the blonde girls lips. The girls embraced tightly, and Louis could be convinced that the saw a few tears sneak down ‘Samantha’s’ cheek. 

“That’s sweet.” Louis smiled softly. “They look so happy.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said lamely, eyes focused on Louis instead. “They do.”

“Loueh!” Zayn slurred, stumbling up to his best friend and wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “We found you! You were hiding! With Harry!”

Louis eyebrows raised and he smiled, gently untangling himself from Zayn’s octopus-like grasp. “Wow, somebody got drunk!” He laughed, eyes flicking to Liam. The man grinned sheepishly, though the only thing in his eyes was sappy adoration for his soulmate. 

“He may have had one too many,” Liam confessed, his own voice slightly slow. “And uh. I would take him home, but we haven’t ever spent the night before and I don’t want it to be pressured or awkward, ya know? Should probably talk about it when we’re sober.” 

Louis smiled. “That sounds good. Thank you for watching out for him, Liam. I’ll take care of him and make sure he calls you, yeah?” He said, keeping a firm grip on Zayn’s jacket. The boy had a tendency to wander when inebriated. 

“Thank you.” Liam smiled, cheeks red and eyes squinty. “You’re the best, Lou.” 

Louis brushed Liam off. “Nah. Not the first time I’ve had to drag him home.” He shrugged, fishing his phone out of his pocket to text Niall. 

**Takin Z home have fun with the girls love u**

It didn’t take long for Niall to respond.

_Probs takin one home rn smell ya later tommo get home safe love u_

Louis laughed to himself and pocketed the device after ordering an Uber with a few taps. “Come on Z, let’s get you home,” he hummed. “Bye Harry, bye Liam. See you later.” He smiled, carefully herding Zayn towards the exit, ignoring the boy’s protest of wanting to stay with Liam. 

The Uber pulled up just as Louis got Zayn to the curb, and Louis bundled his friend into the back seat, smiling apologetically to the driver, who seemed very concerned that his car was going to become the scene of a violent upchuck. It was a short, vomit-free drive, and it only took a little bit of encouragement to get Zayn up the stairs. Louis unlocked his door and bustled Zayn in through the door. 

“Ziggy! My girl! Zigazig-ahh!” Zayn cheered, falling to his knees to hug the lanky dog that greeted him at the door. Louis laughed and shook his head, scratching Ziggy’s ears as the dog looked at him reproachfully. Her tail wagged with Zayn’s affection, but her eyes clearly asked why he smelled bad and was acting so weird. 

“Z, babe, c’mere,” Louis said, getting a glass of water for the boy. “Drink this and then we can go to bed.” 

Zayn groaned dramatically but dragged himself to the kitchen, Ziggy at his heels. “You’re such a mom, Louis, Jesus.” 

“Yeah, well.” Louis shrugged, chugging his own glass despite the fact he had never been more than tipsy and had sobered up considerably. “Don’t want to hear you complain about a hangover for six hours tomorrow.” The trio migrated to the bedroom, and both boys shucked down to their pants before climbing under the covers. Ziggy found her place between them, sighing happily at the extra warmth Zayn provided.

“I kinda missed this,” Zayn hummed, burrowing into the covers. “Been awhile since we’ve had a sleepover ‘nd a proper cuddle.”

Louis smiled sleepily, reaching over to ruffle Zayn’s hair. “Yeah. Being an adult sucks.” He yawned, rolling onto his side. 

“Mhmm.” Zayn pet Ziggy lazily, marveling at how her coat changed from black, to white, and back to black. “So what do you think of Liam?” he asked, brown eyes flicking up to meet Louis, searching them for any hint of reservations. 

“He’s great, Z. Everything I would hope for you.” Louis smiled, pushing a lock of hair off of his face. He needed a cut soon. “He really cares for you, I can tell. Super nice and funny. I’m so happy for you.”

A wide grin split across Zayn’s face. “Really? Cause like, I know he’s my soulmate, but I might have said fuck it if you and Ni didn’t like him. We’re brothers, ya know? You come before a soulmate.”

Louis smiled, scratching Ziggy’s ears. “I love you too, bro. Now shut up and go to sleep before I smother you with a pillow or something.” 

Zayn grinned and reached out to jab at Louis’ ribs once, before Ziggy sighed and put a paw on his face as if to say ‘enough’. 

Louis woke the next morning to Zayn snoring lightly and Ziggy whining quietly to go outside. He grumbled and scrubbed his hands over his face—even though he hadn’t been anything more than tipsy last night, he was getting too old to drink without having a hangover the next morning. A glance at the clock told him it was nearing ten, well past Ziggy’s normal walk time, so he forced his legs out of bed. He managed to make it to the bathroom to brush the stale taste from his mouth and pee, Ziggy waiting patiently by the door in the meantime. He swallowed some ibuprofen and left two on the nightstand by Zayn, started a pot of coffee brewing, and then snagged Ziggy’s leash off the rack. She whuffed excitedly, tail waving in the air as he clipped the lead to her collar and headed down the stairs. 

The pair followed the same path they always did—a roughly 45 minute walk that they both knew well enough to do in their sleep. Louis was practically doing that now—his head was lodged deep in the hood of his softest jacket, eyes squinted against the glare of the sun. Ziggy, however, took the lead easily. She stopped to pee at the same bush she always did, and waited patiently as Louis cleaned up her poo at the same corner tree as the dozen times before. She initiated the usual turn onto Mayberry Street, but she did not prevent Louis from colliding into a very firm mass that was exiting a coffee shop as Louis passed, and she definitely couldn’t stop the masses hot coffee from spilling all down the front of Louis’ favorite purple hoodie.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I- Louis?”

Louis froze, recognizing the distinct voice of Harry as he pulled his rapidly cooling hoodie away from his skin. “Morning, Harry.” He smiled wryly. 

“I really am so sorry,” Harry gushed, turning slightly red with how flustered he was. “Do you need a new shirt? I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s really alright, Harry,” Louis assured, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s arm without really thinking. “I was just getting ready to head back anyway, don’t worry about it.”

Harry seemed to calm at the touch, and it was only then that he noticed the leggy black and white dog sitting patiently at Louis side. “Who’s this?” he asked, kneeling and looking to Louis for permission before petting. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

 

“This is Ziggy.” Louis smiled softly. “She’s a good girl, huh Zig?”

“She’s lovely.” Harry grinned, scratching behind her ears. “I’ve got a cat, but no dogs allowed at my apartment, unfortunately. Sometimes I go play with the ones at the shelter.”

And, well. Louis’ heart was melting, but it was fine. 

“That’s where I got her.” Louis confirmed, patting Ziggy fondly. “She was raced for a while when she was younger, and then got put up for adoption.”

“Yeah? Were you a speed demon?” Harry cooed. “Bet they all ate your dust, huh Ziggy?” 

Ziggy responded by licking Harry’s cheek, causing him to erupt into giggles. Louis grinned fondly. “We should probably get going,” he said softly. “Gotta make sure Zayn hasn’t asphyxiated in his sleep, and, well,” he gestured to his soaked hoodie. 

Harry stood, face apologetic once more. “I really am sorry, Louis. I should have been watching where I was going. Can I at least buy you some breakfast to make up for it? I was going to get a new coffee anyway,” he said, gesturing to the coffee shop he had just left.

“You really don’t have to-” Louis tried to protest, but Harry interrupted him. 

“I insist,” the taller man said, already stepping into the store with a wink. Louis sighed and stood around awkwardly, scratching the top of Ziggy’s head. Harry returned with a fresh coffee and a paper sack that was wafting the amazing scent of breakfast pastries. 

“For you. I’m sorry, again.” Harry smiled sheepishly, handing Louis the sack. “I got a few options, wasn’t sure what you would like. Should be some in there for Zayn too.” He smiled. “No dog biscuits though, sorry Ziggy,” he apologized, patting her head. “I, um. I’ll see you around?”

Louis blushed slightly. “Yeah, yeah. See you,” he confirmed. “And um. Thanks, for this,” he said, raising the sack awkwardly. “Should get going, Zig probably wants breakfast too.” He waved slightly, heading back down the road for the rest of their route.

Once they made it home, Louis stripped out of his hoodie, filled Ziggy’s bowl with kibble, and found a new shirt before flopping back into bed on top of Zayn, waking up the hungover man. 

“The fuck, Lou?” Zayn groaned, squirming underneath him. “It’s too early. Fuck off.” 

“It’s like, ten. There’s drugs on the nightstand and I brought breakfast,” Louis said, moving so Zayn could sit up and swallow back some pills. 

“M getting too old for this,” Zayn grumbled, eyes swollen from sleep. “Never used to get hungover.” 

“You were also wasted as hell last night,” Louis pointed out, rummaging through the bag Harry had given him. He handed the cinnamon roll to Zayn, knowing it was his favorite. 

“Score,” Zayn groaned, sinking his teeth into the sticky pastry. “Where did you get these?” he asked, a few crumbs spewing. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, nasty,” Louis scolded, selecting a blueberry muffin for himself. “Harry fucking Styles ran into me with his fucking stupid cute face and spilled coffee all over my favorite hoodie and bought these to make up for it, that’s where I got them.” He sighed and started picking off pieces of muffin and popping them in his mouth. 

Zayn was silent for a long moment, chewing his cinnamon roll thoughtfully. “So, are we ignoring how fate is repeatedly shoving you two together and how you’re both too stupid to just listen?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and watching Louis with a look that resembled his mother far too much. 

Louis clenched his jaw and huffed, shoving a bigger piece of muffin in his mouth so he didn’t have to answer. “Fuck off,” he mumbled around it, worming back under the covers as if that would hide him from his problems. 

“Louis, he’s the cutest, kindest fucking sweetheart of a guy ever,” Zayn insisted. “You’re really worried? You really think it’ll change how he feels about you? Like, genuinely?” he demanded. “Because I know you have a fucking brain in that thick skull of yours, and I know that you know he’s meant for you.” 

Louis glared at Zayn from under the covers, cheeks stuffed full of muffin at this point. The two stared down for a long minute, both stubborn boys raised by stubborn women. Eventually, though, Zayn cracked and fell into giggles. “You look like a fucking chipmunk with your cheeks like that,” he informed, digging in the paper sack for his next pastry. “Seriously though Louis. Give him a chance. You never know what’s going to happen.” 

Louis sighed and swallowed the mouthful of muffin. “Don’t you think he would have said something by now?” he demanded. “He doesn’t seem like the type to avoid things like that.”

“Neither do you,” Zayn pointed out. “Never knew you to avoid anything, except in regards to your soulmate.” He selected a cheese danish and split it with Louis. “A couple bad experiences with guys named Harry and suddenly every one of them is awful. Jesus H., Louis.” He sighed. 

Louis just accepted the danish and shrugged, staring at his fingers. “I dunno, Z. It might be better than it was, but a lot of people still aren’t ok with who I am. I only hear it less because I look like I’m supposed to,” he pointed out. 

“As if you cared when you didn’t.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “You always fucking stood up for yourself. I watched you pick fights with jerks twice your size. You and your mum nearly sued the family of that guy that broke your nose, Louis. You were unapologetically yourself from the second I met you.” 

Louis sighed and smiled softly at Zayn. “Why am I friends with you, again? Niall lets me wallow in self pity without calling me out on it. I should be hanging out with Niall.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Niall calls me while you’re wallowing so that I’m ready at your house to kick your ass into gear once you finally get off his couch. It’s a give and take, you just didn’t get the cry baby stage this time,” he said simply. “Now be a dear and pass the remote, I intend to stay in this bed all day. We haven’t had a lads day in ages.” 

Louis grinned and obliged. “I love lazy lads days,” he said. He pulled out his phone and opened Snapchat, taking a well-angled selfie with Zayn and Ziggy and sending it to Niall. Their friend replied almost instantly with a picture of his shower. ‘I’ll be there by 12 with chinese’.

“Good lad.” Zayn nodded his approval when Louis read the message out loud, clicking on the newest Avengers movie and settling back into the pillows. Niall arrived an hour later in his pajamas, letting himself in with his key. 

“They gave me such weird looks at the restaurant.” Niall frowned, crawling into the bit of space on the bed between Louis and Ziggy. “It’s Saturday. Surely people pick up take out in their pajamas all the time?” 

“I think it was the fact that they’re women’s pajamas that say Juicy on the arse, Ni,” Louis said mildly, accepting his regular order and snuggling into Zayn a bit more to make room. “Thanks, babe. Thor and the racoon are pals now.” He nodded at the screen.

Niall shrugged and propped himself up on the pillows, popping a wonton in his mouth. “They’re soft pants, okay? I like them. Can we rewind? Haven’t seen this one yet.”

Zayn held his hand out for an eggroll and obliged, starting the film over. The trio made good on their goal, and didn’t leave bed all day. 

~~~~~

 

_U like Hozier rite????_

Louis phone chirped at him and he read the message from Zayn, knotting his eyebrows together in confusion. He finished pouring his tea and moseyed to his desk, typing out a reply.

**Ya why**

He watched as the blue bubble immediately said ‘Read’ underneath it and the three dots popped up.

_He’s playing the apollo do u wanna go_

Louis heart lurched in excitement. **Of fucking course i want to go but that show has been sold out for ages**

_Great ill tell liam to tell harry u will go with him_

**WHAT THE FUCK ZAYN**

It was a long minute and a half before Zayn replied, though the message had ‘Read 13:17’. 

_Too late liam said harry said he would love to take u_

**I literally hate you**

_U said you wanted to go :)_

**Dont use that smug face with me you tricky bastard**

_Love u too_

Louis groaned and set his phone down, before his phone dinged with a text from an unknown number. 

_Hi Louis! It’s Harry. Zayn gave me your number, I hope that’s ok? Anyway I got some really good seats for cheap from a friend in the industry, but I can’t find anyone to go with me so I was stoked when Zayn said you were a fan! I was planning on driving up there, I’d be happy to carpool if you want? And I have a hotel room with two queens booked already, so we don’t have to worry about driving all the way home late at night._

Honestly, what the fuck. Harry typed perfectly on his phone. What kind of alien. Louis considered backing out, claiming he couldn’t get time off work, but he would feel bad about it. Harry was clearly getting a little desperate to find someone to come with him. Also, Zayn would probably get wind of the lie and share with the world that Louis had close to a month of vacation time saved up since he never used it. 

**Yeah that sounds great! It’s this weekend right???**

_Yep! I’m so excited!_

**Same :) how much do i owe u for the ticket and hotel??**

_Nothing, don’t worry about it. I was about prepared to be going alone anyway!_

**Harry let me pay u back jesus**

_Nope! :)_

Louis had to stop himself from replying like he would to Zayn, with a lot of ‘fucking bastards’. He probably wasn’t at that level of friendship with Harry yet. 

**Then im covering gas and food and don’t even think about arguing bc i will win. Im scrappy that way.**

_Ugh fine. Pick you up at 3 on friday?_

**Sounds good curly. See u then.**

_< 3_

“Why are you smirking at your phone like that? Does the elusive Louis Tomlinson have a significant other?” Miranda’s teasing voice from the door frame broke Louis from his trance. 

“Jesus, you scared me.” Louis breathed. “No, it’s just friend,” he promised. “Bit of banter.”

Miranda raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Sure, love. Just a friend.” She agreed. “Here’s those documents you printed, they’ve been sitting on the machine since this morning.”

“Sorry, Miranda. Got distracted.” Louis smiled sheepishly. 

“I know, I know,” she winked. “You artsy types, stuck in your groove.” 

“Hardly artsy,” Louis laughed. “But really, thank you.” 

“Any time, dear. Don’t work too hard.” She winked, whirling off in a cloud of loveliness. Bless that woman. 

Louis grinned and stood from his desk again, wandering across the hall to Steve’s office. He knocked on the open door, leaning against the frame. His partner looked up from a blueprint and smiled. “Louis! What can I do for you?”

Louis smiled. “Just wanted to let you know I’m taking a half day on Friday, if that’s alright with you,” he said, hooking his thumb into the pocket of his slacks. 

Steve laughed. “Christsakes, Louis, take the whole day,” he said. “You’re ahead on all of your projects and I don’t think you’ve taken a sick day since you’ve been here. A three day weekend is good for the soul, sometimes. Shit, take Monday too and make it a four day,” he said. 

Louis chuckled. “We’ll see. I appreciate it, Steve. See you,” he nodded, heading back to his own office and pulling up the blueprint for the apartment complex he won the bid on. 

Friday rolled around much more quickly than Louis had anticipated, and he found that he hadn’t even packed when he made it home from work around 7 on Thursday night. He flopped on the couch and rubbed his eyes, smiling when Ziggy jumped up to join him. Maybe taking a whole day tomorrow would be a good idea—he could sleep in and then take his time packing. 

“Uncle Niall is having a sleepover with you this weekend, isn’t that exciting?” Louis asked Ziggy, smiling when her tail wagged a bit. “I know he spoils you and gives you things he shouldn’t. But I’ll pretend I don’t know, ok? We can let him have his secret.” 

Ziggy just whuffed her agreement and licked Louis’ chin, resting her head on his chest as he flicked on the TV. He felt his eyes growing heavy, his week catching up to him quickly as he tried to focus on Bake Off. 

Louis groaned and woke around midnight, discovering he had fallen asleep on the couch like an old man. “Why’d you let me do that, Zig?” he asked, glancing at the TV where poker was playing. Weird. He turned it off and dragged himself to his bed, leaving a trail of his work clothes and ignoring how his stomach rumbled since he hadn’t eaten. If he ate now, he would be up all night with weird dreams. Christ, he really was getting old. He sighed heavily and rolled over a few times before drifting off, Ziggy snoring on his feet. He slept like a stone, not waking again until sun poured over his eyes. He hummed and stretched slowly, letting all of his limbs wake up before he dressed, put on the coffee pot, and got Ziggy’s leash for their morning walk. The dog was already waiting patiently by the door, tail wagging, and immediately trotted down the stairs for their normal route. 

Habit carried Louis through the usual turns, but after they turned onto Mayberry, he had to stop abruptly to avoid colliding with a tall man. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Harry sighed dramatically, managing not to spill the coffee in his hand this time. “Or at least plan the meetings, if they’re going to happen.”

Louis laughed softly, gently directing Ziggy closer to the wall so they were out of the way of other people. “At least this time my shirt remained dry,” he joked. “I would be afraid of you forming a habit.” 

Harry shook his head, sighing heavily. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” he asked, one dimple appearing as he grinned wryly. 

“Never,” Louis confirmed with a laugh, pushing his soft, unstyled fringe out of his eyes. It was getting long again, he would need to make an appointment for a haircut soon. 

“Your hair looks nice like that.” Harry smiled softly. “I like it down. Not that it doesn’t look great up as well. ‘S just, different like this, I guess.” He blushed slightly, realizing he was rambling about the hair of someone that was just an acquaintance. 

“Thanks, mate,” Louis chuckled softly. “Not used to it being in my eyes like this.” He shrugged. “I should get going though, still need to head back home so Niall can pick this kid up and pack for tonight. See you at three?”

“See you at three,” Harry confirmed with a grin. “Bye, Ziggy.” He scratched behind her ears, earning a wag. “Oh, hey, text me your address?” he requested, looking over his shoulder at Louis as he began walking away.

“Oh, yeah for sure,” Louis promised. “I’ll do that now.” He smiled. “See you in a bit.” He waved, heading down the road for the rest of the walk. He texted Harry his address as requested, then let Niall know he could pick Ziggy up whenever as he unlocked the door to his apartment. 

Niall arrived an hour and a half later, wandering through the apartment to find Louis sitting in a heap of clothes in front of his closet, more clothes scattered on the bed with Ziggy. “What the fuck, Louis?” he asked with a laugh. “Jesus. Looks like a fucking bomb went off in here. You’re leaving for, what, two days?”

“I’m trying to pack and I have nothing to wear,” Louis groaned, falling backwards onto the floor. “Harry will be here in at three, Niall, help me.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Nothing to wear my arse,” he mumbled, carefully picking through the mess. “Where’s that one shirt, the speckled blue one that brings out your eyes?” He asked. 

“Oh I forgot about that one,” Louis mused, not moving from his spot on the floor. He pinched Niall’s ankle, since it was at eye level and it seemed like the thing to do. “Maybe the dresser?”

Niall kicked Louis in response, moving across the room to the dresser and finding the blue shirt at the bottom of one of the drawers. “Here it is. Where are your ‘fuck me’ jeans?” he asked briskly, placing his hands on his hips.

“I don’t want to wear my fuck me jeans.” Louis frowned. “I don’t want him to fuck me.”

“First of all, yes you do. Second of all, yes you do. Third of all, even if you don’t want him to fuck you, which, yes you do, you want someone to fuck you. Don’t pretend it hasn’t been eons, Louis. And even if you aren’t taking anyone home, it’s fun to pretend to put out.” Niall raised an eyebrow. 

“I hate you,” Louis sighed. “Threw them on the bed, I think.”

Niall dug through the scattered clothes, finding the jeans with a triumphant “Hah!” He threw them back at Louis with the blue shirt, a short sleeve button down with tiny white flowers printed on it, so small they appeared to be dots. “Now go shower, do your hair, and get dressed. I’ll clean this mess up and find you something for tomorrow.” 

“Harry said he likes my hair down,” Louis mentioned with a thoughtful hum. 

“You’re going to complain the whole time that your hair is in your face or tickling your forehead or something. Do it up,” Niall said, with the tone that it was the final word. 

Louis sighed and got to his feet, kissing Niall’s cheek as he went by. “Thank you, Niall,” he said dryly, though they both knew it was as good as ‘I love you’. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry, me and Ziggy have big plans,” Niall said, already folding some shirts.

Louis grinned and obliged, shutting the door to the ensuite behind him and letting the water warm up as he undressed. He glanced in the mirror, raising a finger to trace the letters on his chest. He thought about what Zayn said, about fate pushing Harry into his life. Perhaps, even if he wasn’t Harry’s soulmate, fate intended them to be together in some fashion. Maybe tonight was the start. 

Louis showered quickly, before emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam dressed in the outfit Niall picked out, hair spiked into a quiff that was a little more fun and a little less business than he usually did. “You were right, Niall,” Louis declared simply, spinning when Niall indicated so his friend could get the whole view of the outfit. “I look great and you were right.”

“I’m always right,” Niall said smugly, folding the last pair of jeans and putting them away. “But yeah, you look fit as hell, Tommo. Perfect timing, too, it’s nearly three. You got Ziggy’s bag?” 

Louis nodded, leading Niall to the kitchen with Ziggy hot on their heels. “Yep. Food for tonight and tomorrow morning, plus some extra in case something happens, a couple treats, her blanket, and her favorite toys. Oh, numbers for the ER vet and the regular vet, and-”

“Louis, I have babysat your dog a dozen times,” Niall reminded, grinning playfully. “Me and Zig are buddies, we’ll be fine,” he laughed. 

Louis pouted a bit. “I just hate leaving her,” he mumbled, bending over to pet her and clip on her lead. She looked confused, not at all interested in two walks in one day, the lazy thing. 

“Come on, Zig. We’re going to mine,” Niall chirped, coaxing the dog out the door. “Car ride?” he asked her brightly, which got her attention and she trotted after him with a last look over her shoulder at Louis. 

“Bye Lou!” Niall called, waving over his shoulder. “Have fun! Love you!” 

Louis waved back before closing the door, going to grab his toiletries to pack up. He found his favorite sweatpants, a loose white tee, socks, underwear, a pair of light wash jeans, and a wine colored knit sweater were all folded neatly on the bed—honestly, Niall was such a mum. He had great taste in clothes, the sweater was one of his softest and would be perfect for a morning drive. 

His phone chirped with a message from Harry, breaking his internal monologue. 

_Hi! On my way, GPS says I should get there around 3:07 :)_

**I don’t appreciate tardiness, harold**

_Im sorry!!! I had to write down all the kitty feeding instructions for Liam_

**...relatable. Niall always watches ziggy and im still expecting texts on how much to feed. I suppose u are forgiven.**

Louis paused and followed up with a second text.

**Also dont text and drive. Idk where u put the tix if u die**

_Siri is listening and writing for me!! They are in the glovebox, if I die._

**So ur telling me u just verbally said exclamation point exclamation point period, AND i have to come to the scene of ur wreck to get the tix? smh**

_Obviously. I would sound like a robot without punctuation! And if I’m still alive, I’ll send the ambulance by yours to drop them off first._

**You sound like a robot WITH punctuation. Might just be u, mate. Sounds  
Good tho, I’ll wait for the sirens. **

_Haha. I am around the corner!!_

Louis grinned and shook his head, patting his pocket to make sure his wallet was there before slinging his overnight bag over his shoulder, locking the door behind him, and jogging down the stairs. He stood on the curb, glancing at his phone again.

**Im the one looking lost on the sidewalk**

_I see you. Im the red sedan!!_

Louis looked up, squinting against the sun. Why the fuck did the sun choose to be out today? This was England, not California. 

**I dont see u**

_To your left! By the light_

Louis finally saw the car and jogged towards it, hopping in the passenger side and tossing his bag in the back. 

“Hi.” Harry smiled, putting the car in gear and pulling back into traffic. “Are you excited? I’m so excited.”

“I’m stoked, yeah.” Louis said excitedly. “Big fan. There’s a gas station at the next light, if you want to pull in and fill up?” he offered. 

Harry grinned sheepishly, causing Louis to lean over and peer at Harry’s dash. “You bastard! You stopped and filled up before you got here, didn’t you? That’s why you were late!”

“I’m sorry!” Harry laughed, dodging the hand that snaked out to tug on one of his curls. “I don’t mind, honestly! The tickets were practically free, and I’m not spending any more money than I would have if I was going alone like I thought I would have to!” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he sighed. “Thank you, again, for inviting me though. I didn’t think I would ever get tickets that weren’t so overpriced that I refuse on the principle of it.” 

Harry smiled. “Anytime,” he hummed happily, stopping at a red light. 

“So you got the tickets from a friend?” Louis asked curiously, squirming a bit in his seat and fiddling with the toggles until he was positioned comfortably. 

“Yeah, a buddy from uni is the events coordinator for the venue so he gets me free or cheap tickets when he can. I did a mural for his house, and he still feels like he owes me for some reason. I won’t complain though, I’m in the same boat as you—never would have found tickets otherwise.” He shrugged and merged onto the highway. 

“That’s super cool.” Louis smiled, nodding. “Nice of him.”

“Yeah, for sure,” harry hummed. “So how’s work? Any fun projects?”

“Yeah, actually.” Louis grinned. “I’ve been working on designing this new apartment building—the kind I love to look at but would never be able to afford,” he joked, picking a bit of dog hair off of his pant leg. After he got paid for this gig, though, he probably would be able to afford living there. “It’s gonna be sick though, the owner basically said he wanted it to be unique and left the rest up to interpretation. I submitted three bids for the building and he loved all of them- One of them was like, spiraled? I’ve been leaning towards that one with a few of the elements of the others, but that could be a bit of a design nightmare, on the interior,” he mused, shrugging. 

Harry grinned. “Sounds fuckin sick to me, mate. I have a few friends that are interior designers, I think sometimes they like the challenge of weird walls. I say go for it,” he said genuinely. “Plus, rich people like to say they have a one of a kind thing, and I think that would extend to a home.” 

Louis smiled over at Harry. “That they do,” he laughed. “That’s how you make a living, eh? Playing to that. What was that lady’s name, JoyLee?” He winked. 

“Exactly,” Harry laughed. “I’m pretty sure she has a piece of mine in every room of her house, at this point. Her London house, mind you. She has a favorite artist in each city she owns a house in.” 

Louis giggled. “That sounds amazing. Could you imagine? A house with a different art theme on every continent. I love it.”

“Right?” Harry snorted. “Fly to wherever you’re in the mood for on a whim? Wish that were me,” he joked. 

Louis giggled and they fell into easy conversation about Harry’s art, their pets, and families. He had never felt so at ease with someone so quickly, and every now and then, when their arms brushed on the console or they both went to turn up the volume on the radio, a jolt over his heart reminded him why. 

They made it to Manchester around 6:30, deciding on a small chippy for dinner to kill time until the venue’s doors opened at 7. Louis stared, appalled, as Harry doused his chips in ketchup after he very nearly was sneaky enough to pay for his own dinner. “I’m not sure we can be friends, Harold,” he said solemnly, standing with his tray as if he was going to move tables. 

“No!” Harry whined with a giggle. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to change my ways. I know I’m hurting my family, I’m sorry. I’m a broken person.”

Louis sat back down and shook his head. “We’ll fix you yet, Curly,” he vowed, popping a chip in his mouth. 

“So what’s your favorite song? Which are you most excited for?” Harry asked curiously, chewing his own ketchup covered chip. 

“Mmm… I think my favorite is It Will Come Back or To Be Alone,” Louis said honestly. “I just really like the guitar riffs, ya know? But I’m most excited for Take Me to Church or From Eden… I feel like artists and the crowd just really connect on the popular singles, ya know? Singing back and forth to each other.” 

Harry nodded, a small smile on his lips as he listened to Louis. “Yeah, I totally get that,” he confirmed, humming softly. “I like the quieter ones, I think. Where everyone just stops to listen. I think In A Week is one of my favorites.”

“It’s so dark, though.” Louis wrinkled his nose. “It’s literally about dead bodies.”

“But there’s something beautiful about it, don’t you think?” Harry smiled. “Like… ’we’ll become the flowers’. It’s not a negative death, ya know? I dunno,” he shrugged. 

 

“I guess I can see what you’re saying,” Louis agreed. “The vocals are gorgeous anyway, even if the lyrics are scary,” he allowed. 

Harry chuckled and nodded, and the boys ate their dinner in relative silence. It was comfortable rather than awkward, and was punctuated with Harry occasionally trying to steal one of Louis’ chips with a playful giggle, despite the fact that they ordered the same thing. The two finished up and wiped greasy fingers on napkins before heading back to the car and towards the venue.

 

As they entered the venue, Louis found himself buzzing with the contagious energy that always seemed to hang in the air at concerts. He felt like a teenager again, except now he could actually buy the overpriced beer offered at concessions. Harry seemed just as excited, a wide smile on his face as they both got a drink (Harry tried to pay for his again, Louis had to bodily move him from the register) and wove through the crowds to their seats. They sat patiently, chatting over the din of hundreds of people, before paying attention to the stage as the opening act came on. They listened with polite interest, neither of them very familiar with the band. Louis stood to get two more beers during the intermission, managing to make it back only spilling a tiny bit.

The second Hozier came on, Louis was enraptured, taken away by his voice and stage presence. He found himself, however, watching Harry more than the stage- watching how he mouthed along with the words and swayed slightly from side to side. He watched as Harry’s hair slowly deflated, curling around his ears and on his forehead, watched his pupils get wider to accommodate the low light. He watched as In a Week played, and Harry went quiet, eyes closed as he seemed to sink into the music. 

It was during From Eden, though, that their eyes met. Harry smiled softly, and Louis felt a tingle run down his spine as he returned it. 

He was in love with Harry Styles.

There’s something tragic about it. Don’t you agree?

~~~~~

Harry slid the key card into the slot on the door, and both boys piled sleepily into the room. Louis fumbled around for the light switch, a satisfied smile plastered permanently on his face. 

“He was so amazing live. I still can’t get over it.” Louis sighed, flopping on the bed closer to the window and letting his bag fall to the floor. “He’s like, a mythical creature or something, I think. He looks a bit like an elf, dontcha think? A woodland fairy.”

Harry laughed softly, rubbing his eyes. “He does, a bit, yeah,” he hummed, dumping his bag on the table near the door and digging out a pair of sleep pants and a shirt. “Are you gonna have a shower in the morning? You can go first, if you want.” He yawned, stripping off his sheer floral shirt to replace it with a loose fitting tank top.

Louis finally turned to face the room, barely managing to drag his eyes away from Harry’s bare chest He didn’t see an obvious mark anywhere, it must be hidden slightly. Or maybe he was one of the poor souls that never got one. God, what if it was because Louis changed his name? He shorted the system? 

“Louis?” Harry prompted again, shaking the boy from his thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. Might have zoned out there a bit. Nah, I’ll be ok without a shower. Hotel showers freak me out.”

Harry laughed softly, peeling back the covers of the other bed. “I feel that,” he hummed, yawning sleepily. “Mmm. I might actually pass out. When did we get so old? Ten years ago I would still be bouncing off the walls.”

“Oi. I resent the implication that I’m old.” Louis frowned, sticking his tongue out at Harry.

“Alright, Peter Pan,” Harry laughed, grabbing his toothbrush and heading to the bathroom. He left the door open, but Louis seized his chance and used the time while Harry was out of sight to change. Going to change in the bathroom when Harry finished would probably be awkward—grown men could change in front of each other without concern, they’re not as insecure in their bodies anymore. This wasn’t the middle school locker room, although that had been a much different struggle for Louis. No, this would look casual, like he didn’t mind changing in front of Harry and it was just coincidence that he changed while Harry was gone. He faced away from the bathroom anyway, just in case, and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. He pulled out the soft white tee Niall had packed—both of them knew Louis usually slept topless or in a loose tank, but Niall respected Louis’ desire to hide his mark and scars for the time being. Bless that boy. 

Harry returned to his bed just as Louis was pulling the shirt over his head, unable to see anything but the soft expanse of Louis back. Louis wriggled out of his jeans, sighing in relief when the tight fabric was gone and he could slide into his softest sweatpants. Honestly, bless Niall. He would recruit the boy to pack for him from now on. 

“Gnight,” Louis mumbled, falling face down into the pillow, too exhausted to try and brush his teeth or even have his evening cigarette. He wasn’t old, though. He just hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Yeah, that’s what it was. 

“Gnight, Lou.” Harry smiled sleepily, rolling over to flick out the bedside light. Both men were out in minutes, lulled by the other’s breathing. 

 

“Lou. Louis,” Harry whispered the next morning, leaning over the sleeping boy and poking his shoulder. “Louis.”

Louis just groaned and rolled over, burrowing deeper into the covers. In his half asleep state, he could hear Harry’s footsteps back away. Good. 

Suddenly, a pillow smacked down on top of his head, jolting him awake and making Louis jump straight up. “What the fuck, Harry?” he demanded, heart taking a few beats to get back on a regular rhythm after the startling awakening. 

Harry was on the other side of the room, clutching another pillow and biting back a shit eating grin. Louis gripped two pillows and stumbled out of bed, nearly eating shit before he righted and came at Harry, causing the boy to squeak and jump on top of the other bed in a peal of laughter. “It was for a good cause!” he laughed out his defense. “There’s a design your own omelette bar! And a design your own waffle bar! They close at 9:15 and it’s already 8:30!” 

Louis paused, hair sticking up in every direction from sleep and a few lines on one half of his face from the pillow. “I guess that’s a valid reason,” he grumbled, bringing one fist up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “I love a good waffle.” 

Harry grinned, cautiously getting off the bed. He was already dressed in a pair of pants that could only be described as leggings and an oversized lilac sweater. It was fucking adorable. Still, Louis seized his chance and gave Harry a retaliatory smack in the face with one of the pillows that he was still clutching.

“Lou!” Harry gasped, catching the pillow before it hit the ground. He wore a huge pout on his face. “That was way harder than I did to you,” he complained softly. 

Louis frowned. “Was not. You did start it.”

Harry shrugged and grinned. “Yeah, well.” He giggled softly. “C’mon, get dressed,” he encouraged. “We can’t miss the waffles!” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m working on it! You’re like me kid sisters on Christmas, Jesus.” He laughed fondly. He elected to just pull a sweater on over his white tee, exchanging his sweatpants for the loose fitting jeans Niall had packed him. 

“Sweater pals,” Harry sang with a cheesy grin, tugging on Louis’ sleeve playfully as he walked past Harry, towards the bathroom.

“You’re ridiculous.” Louis laughed, closing the door to have a quick pee and brush his teeth. He wished he had thought to grab a hat, and instead just used some water to dampen his hair and tame it into something a little less bed head. He exited the bathroom and packed up his phone charger and other small items that he had somehow scattered last night, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and following Harry out the door. 

When they reached the lobby they were greeted with the mouth watering smell of waffles, mixed with bacon and eggs. Louis immediately got in the waffle line, picking a plain batter with whipped cream, strawberries, bananas, and a drizzle of nutella as toppings. Harry was conflicted, looking back and forth between both lines. Louis took pity on him. “Get an omelette, curly, and we’ll share. Just no mushrooms, I don’t eat fungus on principle.” 

Harry grinned. “No mushrooms, got it,” he chuckled, getting in line for the omelettes and ordering one with onions, spinach, bacon, and lots of cheese. The two met at a bartop near a window, both humming happily. They ate in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sneaking a fork out to steal a bite from the other’s plate as if they hadn’t agreed to share. 

“I’m gonna grab a tea, do you want anything?” Louis offered, getting up from his chair. 

“Yeah, I’ll take a coffee.” Harry smiled. 

“You’re a poor excuse of an englishman,” Louis sighed, going to the beverage station. He found a case of Earl Grey, brewing himself a cup and pouring Harry some coffee in a separate mug. He grabbed a few sugars and creams, not sure how his companion took it. His tea was nearly how he liked it by the time he reached the bartop again, setting Harry’s coffee in front of him and digging back into his waffles. 

“Thanks,” Harry chirped, pouring a few sugars into his coffee. “Do you have anything you want to do up here before we head back to London?” He asked, blowing on the liquid to cool it before he took a sip. 

Louis shrugged. “Nothing in particular. I’m flexible, down for whatever you want to do.”

Harry hummed and swallowed. “Didn’t have anything in mind. Thought maybe we could just take the long way home, see a bit of country?” 

Louis smiled. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he said cheerfully, spearing a last strawberry before pushing away his plate, far too full to finish the rest. “Love a good road trip. Don’t be offended if I fall asleep, but I’ll try not to,” he joked, sipping his tea. 

“No worries.” Harry smiled softly. “Can I trust you with music selections?” he asked playfully. “It’s a very serious job, Louis.”

“You can trust me with your life, Harold,” Louis said seriously, a wry grin placed seemingly permanently on his lips. 

“Wonderful. I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Harry laughed. “Shall we?” he suggested, both of them clearly done eating. Louis nodded, and both men stood, thanking the staff that came to bus the table. They moseyed into the parking lot, reclaiming their spots in the car.

 

~~~~~

 

“How was it?” Niall called into the apartment, letting Ziggy loose as he dropped her off back home. He peeked into the living room where Ziggy had already jumped on top of Louis’ huddled form on the couch. 

Louis let out a wet giggle and hugged Ziggy. “Hi, my girl,” he whispered, sniffling and wiping his eyes as the dog nosed him everywhere, making sure he was still in one piece after a whole night apart. “Why do you smell like a cheeseburger? Did Niall feed you a cheeseburger?”

“Louis, are you fucking crying?” Niall demanded, stepping into the room fully and dropping Ziggy’s bag and leash.

It caused a renewed stream of tears to fall down Louis cheeks. “No,” he said stubbornly, letting Ziggy lick his cheeks. 

“Oh, babe.” Niall frowned, going to find a glass of water and bringing it to Louis. “Love, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Was he a prick? What happened?”

“No,” Louis whimpered, accepting the cup. “No, he was completely lovely. He was completely lovely, and I hate him for it. I don’t want to love him, Niall, because I’m clearly not his soulmate. But I do. I think I love him.”

Niall sighed heavily, pulling out his phone and firing off a quick text to Zayn before cuddling up to Louis on the couch. 

_Code red. At lou’s. Bring ice cream pls._

“Babe, I’m sorry,” Niall murmured, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair. “I can’t imagine.” 

Louis just sniffed, resting his head on Niall’s chest. “It’s not fair. It just isn’t fucking fair, Niall. Everyone gets their soulmate except me. I just want to be happy too. He’s so bloody lovely.” He let out a small choked sob, voice cracking with renewed tears. “I want my mum. I just want my mum.” 

Niall felt a couple of his own tears spill. He was a sympathy cryer, ok? Plus, all of them missed Jay, it was impossible not to, not after so many years of her treating Zayn and Niall like her own. “I know, babe,” he whispered. “I know. None of it is fair.” 

Zayn arrived half an hour later with three pints of ice cream, a flavor for each of them, and a small baggie of weed. They smoked on the porch and ate their way through the ice cream, occasionally trading flavors, while Louis described in detail every minute thing he’d noticed about Harry on their trip. Every detail, including the lack of a mark that bore Louis name. 

“Babe, just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” Zayn reminded gently, spooned against Louis who was spooned against Niall, Ziggy draped over all three boy’s feet. “I could ask Liam?” he offered quietly. “He knows what Harry’s mark says, surely.”

Louis shook his head, eyes bloodshot from both the weed and his tears. “No.” He said firmly. “That’s sneaky and I’m only going to get my heart broken when he says it’s not my name,” he said firmly, or as firmly as he could with such a rough voice. 

Zayn sighed, looking over Louis to make eye contact with Niall. Both boys just shook their heads and cuddled closer to Louis

 

~~~~~

 

_Can you believe Liam and Zayn just ditched our scheduled pub night for a date?_

Louis grinned as his phone lit up with a text from Harry, stretching out in his office chair. His back cracked at the change of position- clearly he had been bent over this design too long. 

**Can u believe niall said he has to go chaperone a class trip and won’t be back in time either? We have shitty friends.**

_Very shitty friends. Wanna see a movie?_

**Ive been meaning to tell u... i actually dont like u at all and only hang out with u in group settings where i can avoid u**

**What movie?**

_:(_

_Idk. new mission impossible looked fun?_

**Tom cruise yum. I approve curly. Find a showing u want and text me the deets.**

_:D_

Louis smiled fondly at his phone, setting it aside to resume work on his blueprints. He and Harry had been hanging out more and more lately, what with Niall being stuck in the full swing of school, and the nasty soulmates being inseparable and also _planning a wedding_ , which, what the fuck? The pair had barely been together six months. Louis supposed if you knew your soulmate, there was no sense waiting to get married, but it still seemed fast. 

Louis, on the other hand, had yet to make any effort to divulge his true feelings to Harry. Over the half year that they had gotten to know each other, they had grown incredibly close. The two got on like a house on fire, a constant stream of banter flowing between them. Ultimately, after the concert, Louis had decided that he would rather have Harry as a friend than not at all, and maintained his careful, oblivious facade so as not to jeopardize their friendship.

_7p at the theater around the corner from your apartment??_

**Sounds great curly. See u then!**

Louis managed to be done with work by six, the design for his spiral building coming along nicely. He was almost completely finished with the blueprint, there were weekly meetings with the owner that always ended in glowing praise of Louis ideas, and building was scheduled to start in the next month. He wished Miranda a good night on his way out, and headed down to the parking garage, as always. He was home by 6:30, which gave him enough time to feed Ziggy and change into a pair of jeans, a light grey cable knit sweater, and a leather jacket before heading down the stairs and to the theater. He found Harry in the lobby, already holding a bucket of popcorn and an ICEE with two straws. Louis couldn’t help but smile as he approached the taller boy. 

“You spoil me, Harold.” Louis grinned, pinching Harry’s waist. He looked cute—his skinny jeans were paired with a black shirt, over which he had on an olive green cardigan with a few flecks of paint on it, like most of the artist’s clothes. It was soft to the touch and Louis immediately wanted to steal it.

“Huh? Oh, shit. Was it you I was texting? I thought I had a date with the other, cuter Louis in my contacts. Damnit. I was wondering why he was late,” Harry teased, leading the way to the theater. 

“You’re a brat,” Louis informed him, grabbing a handful of popcorn as they walked. He was half-starved; he hadn’t eaten since 11 that morning. “There is no cuter Louis than me.”

“Mm, got me there,” Harry mused with a laugh, finding a pair of seats near the upper middle of the theater. “This good?”

“Perfect,” Louis agreed, settling down in his seat and grabbing another handful of popcorn. “So how was your day today, Curly? Make some art?” he asked curiously, tuning out the previews playing on the big-screen.. 

“Yeah, finished up a piece today,” Harry hummed, sipping on the blue straw stuck in the ICEE. Louis hummed and went in to drink from the green, going cross-eyed in an attempt to make Harry laugh, as if the fact they were currently forehead to forehead over an ICEE wasn’t ridiculous enough. 

“Lovely, lovely,” Louis said dramatically after he finally backed away, throwing some more popcorn in his mouth. “Artsy day finished by an action movie. Perfect.” 

Harry giggled and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous and I don’t know why I’m friends with you.” 

“My good looks and humor, obviously,” Louis said with a wave of his hand. 

“I wasn’t going to tell you, but really I’m just using you to hang out with Ziggy,” Harry mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine. And Ziggy,” Louis confirmed, turning his attention to the screen as the opening credits began to roll.

The movie was good; not the best, but good. Louis stretched as it came to an end, letting out a dramatic sigh and cracking his back with a satisfied hum. “Wanna come back to mine and order a pizza or something?” he offered, not ready so say farewell to Harry yet. “We can watch another movie.”

Harry smiled and followed suit, raising his arms towards the ceiling. “Yeah, ok,” he agreed. “Haven’t seen Zig in a while, anyway, I guess I can come up,” he joked. 

Louis rolled his eyes and pinched Harry’s exposed ribs, sending a jolt through both of them again. They didn’t even remark on it at this point in their relationship, choosing to ignore the strange electricity between them. “Come on, Harold. Let’s go,” he instructed, tossing their trash in the bin outside the theater before leading the way back to his apartment. 

Ziggy greeted both of them with happy whuffs and wiggles, doing a quick lap around the living room before stopping in front of them for attention. Louis grinned and rubbed her ears, toeing off his shoes by the door and hanging up his leather jacket. He migrated into the kitchen while Harry plopped down on the floor in the entryway, Ziggy practically in his lap, wiggling excitedly at her (second) favorite person. Harry scratched all her favorite places while Louis watched fondly from the kitchen. 

“Zig, I’m feeling very left out!” Louis called, grinning softly as she panted happily and wagged her tail at him. “Hazza, what kind of pizza d’you want?” he asked, pulling out the delivery menu for the closest shop and dialling the number, waiting to press the green call button until Harry shouted back what he wanted—always either veggie or Hawaiian. 

“Where from?” Harry mused, finally getting to his feet and kicking off his own shoes to stand obnoxiously close to Louis and peer at the menu. “Oh, that’s the good place. I stole a slice of their mediterranean style from Nick the other day, and it was really good, wanna try that?” he offered, pointing it out on the menu. It had sundried tomato, onion, spinach, chicken, olives, and feta. 

“Yeah, sure,” Louis agreed, pressing call. “Sounds good.” 

His conversation with the pizzeria was short, and they promised it would arrive within 30 minutes. “I’m getting out of these jeans,” Louis announced to Harry once he was off the phone. “I think you have a pair of sweats you left over here, want those?”

“Ooh, yes please. Elastic waistbands are required on pizza night.” Harry grinned, following Louis to his bedroom and accepting the raggedy pair that he had indeed left. Harry changed quickly, leaving his jeans folded neatly on the bed. He looked even softer now, his cardigan somehow shifting in Louis mind from ‘acceptable daytime outerwear’ to ‘only for me to see him looking this cute in while cuddling in front of a fire’. 

“I’m gonna take a wee, you start looking for a movie, yeah?” Louis suggested, forcing himself out of his own thoughts with a fond smile. 

Harry returned the lopsided grin. “Yeah, ok,” he hummed. “In the mood for anything in particular?” he asked as made his way back to the living room, Ziggy stuck to his side like velcro. 

“Nah, whatever you want,” Louis promised, heading to the bathroom. He first washed his hands and took out his contacts; they had been bothering him every afternoon recently and he was over it. Maybe he needed to go back to the eye doctor for a new brand. He slipped his glasses on instead, humming in relief, before he changed into his own pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, forgoing a shirt underneath the garment. He padded into the living room and climbed over the back of the couch rather than going the normal way, because it was his couch and he could do what he wanted. He hummed happily and snuggled into Harry’s lap, hood up over his head. 

“It that my hoodie?” Harry asked with a slight grin, using Louis’ side as an armrest. 

“Clearly not, Harold. It’s mine. I’m wearing it,” Louis said with a smirk, burrowing deeper into the ridiculously soft oversized purple hoodie, marred with a few flecks of yellow paint. It still smelled like Harry, like cinnamon apples and coffee, which only added to the appeal. 

“Of course, of course, my mistake,” Harry nodded, a smirk spreading across his face as he reached down to tighten the strings on the hood, leaving only Louis nose visible. 

“Thank god, now I don’t have to see your ugly face,” Louis teased, humming as he felt Ziggy jump up to curl on his feet. 

“Heyyy,” Harry pouted, finally clicking on a movie. “This sounds good—A Fantastic Woman,” he announced, lightly drawing patterns on Louis’ side with his free hand.

“What’s it about?” Louis asked softly, pulling open the hood and peering up at the tv. 

“A transgender woman and the death of her boyfriend,” Harry said vaguely, only having read part of the summary. “It’s got awesome reviews.”

Louis stiffened imperceptibly, but forced himself to relax—it was only a movie, and Harry was clearly watching it because he was interested, not as some secret ploy to make fun of Louis. He was still irrationally defensive over his gender after so many years of fighting for it, still anticipating having to defend himself to anyone he came out to. “Ok, sounds good,” he agreed, worried that his hesitation may have shown.

The movie was just getting underway when the pizza man buzzed up, and it only took minimal pouting for Harry to collect it instead of Louis. The shorter man grinned, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest as Harry grabbed two plates from the kitchen and set the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Thanks, babes,” Louis hummed, accepting a plate with two slices from Harry. 

“Sure thing, sweetums,” Harry said with a wink, pressing resume on the movie. Louis lay back down with his head resting on Harry’s thigh after he finished his pizza, watching the film with interest. He was half asleep but enjoying the unique plot and Harry’s warmth when Marina was put in the car and taped up. Monster, they called her. 

Louis went stiff, the scene striking too close to home. He squeezed his eyes shut, heart rate picking up. His chest felt like it was constricting, and he pushed himself off of Harry’s lap, off of the couch, stumbling to the porch. His hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette, but he couldn’t get the zippo to catch. He was vaguely aware of Harry’s concern, thought he heard his name leave the boy’s lips, but he was still startled when the taller mans hands replaced his own, gently sparking the lighter and shielding it from the wind, letting Louis ignite his cigarette with a shaky inhale. Louis leaned on the porch railing with closed eyes, hands still shaking, and let the cold air against his skin ground him. The feeling of Harry’s hand on his back startled him, but he felt his breathing even out with the even strokes over his spine, felt his heart slow to a normal rate as well. It wasn’t until he went quiet that he realized the ragged gasping sounds he had distantly heard had been the sound of his own breaths. 

“You’re ok,” Harry was murmuring soothingly. “You’re here, not there, Lou. You’re safe. You’re with me, and Ziggy. We’ve got you.” 

Louis felt a few tears slip down his cheeks, releasing the last bits of pent up panic and anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, blowing out a slow stream of smoke, voice raw with the carcinogens. “I’m okay. We can finish your movie.”

Harry shook his head and wrapped Louis in a tight hug. “Babe, you just had a fuckin panic attack,” he said slowly. “We’re staying out here as long as you want, we don’t have to finish the movie at all. That’s what triggered it, right? Or was it something else?”

Louis shook his head, dropping the cigarette in his ashtray and burrowing into Harry’s touch. “The movie. I liked it, I promise. Just, that scene,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“That’s ok, babe,” Harry murmured, still rubbing Louis back. “D’you want to talk about it?” he offered gently, guiding Louis back inside and getting him a glass of water as they took a seat at the kitchen table. 

Louis shrugged and stared at the glass, spinning it in small circles and drawing lines in the condensation that ran down the sides. It was several long minutes of silence before he spoke, and he was grateful that Harry didn’t press him.

“When I was sixteen, three boys jumped me in the bathroom before school,” Louis finally said in a monotone voice, still fidgeting with the glass. He ignored Harry’s sharp intake of breath. “Gave me this,” he ran his finger over the bridge of his nose—the doctors had reset the broken nose, but it still healed a bit crooked, “and a split lip and blacked both my eyes, then duct taped my mouth shut. They wrote ‘tranny’ on the tape and spat on me and told me I was going to hell and left me there in the bathroom stall. I could hardly breath, ‘cause my nose was bleeding, and I was too out of it to try and help myself, and part of me wanted to die, a little. It was my fourth school since I was 12, I was tired of uprooting every year and making my sisters lose their friends. I was tired of my mum struggling to find new jobs,” Louis confessed, still not daring to look up at Harry. 

“What happened? What made you decide to get up?” Harry asked gently, as if he raised his voice any louder than a whisper it would disrupt the air and cause Louis to fall into a panic again. 

“I didn’t,” Louis laughed softly, picking at a hangnail. “Niall found me. Saw a few flecks of blood on the tile outside the stall and crawled under the door when I didn’t respond. Called Zayn and they got me to the nurse and called my mum. Didn’t even know me, I had just started there. They even visited me in the hospital that night, brought some video games and comic books. And they called me Louis, even though my dead name was on every piece of identification visible in that room. My mum wanted to move again, but the headmistress expelled all three of the boys instantly, said we could leave if we really wanted to but she wanted us to know that she would always do everything in her power to make the school safe for all of her students. I talked my mum into staying, said it would be the cowardly thing to do, and I already felt like I belonged with Zayn and Liam. So my mum agreed, and we nearly took to boys to court. Settled for them paying the hospital fees and doing a shit ton of community service, with at least 20 hours being with LGBT charities,” Louis shrugged. “Stayed there the rest of school. My mum ended up buying a house there instead of renting. ‘M sorry I freaked out. Just. Hit close to come I guess.” 

Harry shook his head and pulled Louis into a tight hug. “Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “That is nothing you should be apologizing for,” he said, more gently, and Louis just found himself clinging to Harry, burying his face in the man’s neck.

“Think I’m just ready for bed. Was a long week,” Louis whispered. “‘M not normally like this.”

Harry smiled softly, rubbing Louis back and guiding him to his bed. “Ok, babe. Rest. I’ll get out of your hair,” he murmured, bundling the boy into the soft duvet. He had barely made it to the doorframe when Louis voice broke the silence. 

“Harry? Stay.”

If they curled close together to ward off the frost gathering on the windows and woke in a tangle of legs the next morning, well, no one had to know. 

And if Louis found himself falling in love all over again, no one had to know. 

~~~~~

 

“You have the rings, right?” Zayn asked for the thirteenth time that morning, pacing back and forth across the art museum’s conference room, the space they’d been given to prepare.

“For the last time, Zayn, I have the rings, and all the flowers are here, and the table is set, and the caterer texted me that they’re right on schedule,” Louis said firmly, gripping his best friend by the shoulders and pushing him into a chair. “Now sit fucking still so Lottie can do your hair.” 

Louis’ sister shot him a knowing look before taking to Zayn with a round brush and a can of hairspray, gently styling it into a soft quiff. Louis pushed a glass of champagne into Zayn’s hand, bending to kiss his cheek. “Everything is going to be perfect, Zee,” Louis promised. “It’s all perfect. You’re marrying your soulmate today, it will be nothing but perfect.” 

Zayn smiled gratefully at Louis and took a deep breath, nodding and only earning a light pinch from Lottie at the movement. “I’m marrying my soulmate today.” 

Gradually, the rest of Zayn’s party filed in to get ready. Lottie went down the line and did the makeup for Zayn’s sisters and mother, helping with the hair of everyone else when needed. Louis was Zayn’s best man after winning rock-paper-scissors against Niall, who was just glad to be off the hook for the speech. Louis, Niall, and Zayn’s three sisters would be walking, complimenting Liam’s party of his two sisters, Andy, Ed, and Harry as best man. 

It was a gorgeous setting—Zayn and Liam both walked down the aisle, set in the Romantics period gallery of the museum. White lily petals were dropped by Zayn’s youngest sister, and Liam’s young nephew held the rings. The grooms were in black tailcoats with gold ties, white lilies pinned to their lapels. The women in the wedding party wore soft gold dresses, the men black pants and vests, white shirts, and gold bow ties. 

“We look like upscale waiters-come-strippers,” Louis had whispered to Harry during the fitting. “Chippendales who?”

“Is that not what we’re doing? Shit, wrong gig,” Harry had whispered back with a giggle. 

Now, though, Louis saw Zayn’s vision. The outfits really were gorgeous, and so was the ceremony. 

After the vows, they migrated to the reception, held in the ballroom of the hotel that they would all be staying at. The venue had a spaced cleared for a dance floor, with white lilies on the outer walls of the room and tables set with sheer gold cloths. Zayn, Liam, and the rest of the wedding party were sat at a large table at the front of the dancefloor. 

Dinner was perfect, and Louis almost made it through his speech without crying—it was the part about Zayn being his true brother that got him a little choked, but he made up for it with the story of how Zayn nearly dropped out of art school from embarrassment after trying to pick up his teacher in a bar the night before classes started. Harry was a teary mess his entire speech about Liam, though, so at least Louis did better than that. 

The night went on, Louis dancing with all of his sisters, with Trisha, even with Zayn’s aunt. He mingled with people he hadn’t seen in years and drank glass after glass of champagne, quite tipsy by the time he fell into Harry’s lap at the table nearest the dancefloor.

“May I have this dance?” Louis asked dramatically, tugging Harry up and onto the dance floor. Harry laughed softly, obediently placing his hands on Louis hips and swaying in time to the music. Louis felt Harry’s presence seep into his bones, causing the exhaustion to settle over him like a blanket. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” Harry asked softly, the day catching up with all of them. Liam and Zayn were still mingling, but all of the other guests and families with children had filed out a while ago, and now the rest of the people were trickling out as well. 

“Yeah,” Louis murmured quietly, tired to the bone. He had been up with Zayn since five that morning, and it was nearing midnight. “Think our bags are in coat check.” He stifled a yawn, looking around for his older sisters to say goodbye and promise to catch up the next day before they headed back home. They then migrated to the coat check, finding their jackets and bags, before getting their key from the front desk and heading upstairs. 

It felt vaguely like deja vu as Harry swiped the keycard into their shared room, both boys tumbling into the doorway with their bags over their shoulders, except this time it was a much nicer hotel, and they were tipsy with bowties dangling around their necks. 

“I thought we got a room with double beds?” Louis mused, a confused pout on his face. He just wanted to sleep, dammit. 

“We did,” Harry frowned, unbuttoning his vest with a yawn and reaching for the phone. “I’ll make sure we were sent to the right room,” he mumbled, dialing the lobby. He chatted with them a few moments, voice slow and sweet, dripping like honey. “Ok, no worries. That’s okay. Thank you, good night,” he ended, hanging up the phone. 

Louis blinked at Harry, eyes dry from exhaustion. “Well?”

“We have dumb friends,” Harry sighed. “She said one of the grooms switched us from a double to a single three days ago, and all the rooms for our party are full up.”

“Mmmm,” Louis grinned and shook his head. “They aren’t subtle,” he mumbled, just drunk enough to lose his filter. He reached up to pull out his contacts, desperate for relief. “Whatever, Styles. Big or little spoon?” he yawned, setting his contacts down and unbuttoning his shirt, leaving on the white tank top he had on underneath and switching into the soft joggers he had packed. 

“Little,” Harry hummed happily, pulling off his own clothes and dressing in just a pair of goat printed sleep shorts, because why not. Louis squinted at Harry’s bare body, thinking he got a glimpse of letters on the boy’s ribcage, but without his contacts in he could hardly read anything, even right under his nose. He flicked off the light and curled around Harry, sighing in relief as he settled into the sheets. 

“Was a really nice wedding,” Harry smiled softly, voice muffled by alcohol, sleep, and the pillow. 

“Yeah, it was,” Louis hummed quietly, blinking slowly. “I’m happy for them, they’re really perfect together.”

“Mmhmm,” Harry agreed, shifting a little and curling into the sheets. “D’you think you’ll find that?” he asked, not noticing how Louis heart skipped a beat at the question or how their skin tingled everywhere they touched. 

“I dunno,” Louis whispered, trying to keep his voice even. “I, um. I resisted it a lot. Up until kind of recently. I was afraid, ya know? Afraid maybe their body would say Louis and they would have a problem with me being trans and reject me, but even more afraid that their body would say my dead name,” he admitted. “Seeing that every day… it would be a reminder of things I hated about myself, and it would almost be like fate was saying ‘no, that’s your name, not Louis.’ Like I’m wrong for deciding I need to be who I felt like I was on the inside.”

Harry turned around, almost nose to nose with Louis. “Fate knows better than that,” he said simply. “Fate knows you’re really Louis, even if your body got mixed up on the way. Fate knows.” 

Louis smiled sadly. “Still scared. Less scared, recently. But still scared.” 

Harry just snuggled closer and kissed Louis forehead. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “Your soulmate would travel every continent, sail every ocean to be with you,” he said honestly, because he would. The small ‘Louis’ on his ribs burned slightly with the influx of emotions. No matter what happened, no matter if Louis found his soulmate or not, Harry would always be with Louis.

“What about you?” Louis asked quietly. “Do you think you’ll find your soulmate?” he whispered, reaching up to card through Harry’s curls, growing longer by the day. 

“Yeah. I already have,” Harry confessed, and Louis felt his heart shatter. Harry has a soulmate, and it’s not Louis. 

“Who?” Louis asked with bated breath, managing to keep the tears at bay while he was facing Harry. 

“He was my soulmate but I wasn’t his. I felt the connection and he didn’t,” Harry whispered, voice only shaking a little. “It is what it is, ya know? I can’t do anything except support him and find love on my own terms.”

Louis went still at that. He hadn’t ever considered people being in relationships outside their bonds when their marks were still black, hadn’t considered the possibility that he could be happy with a boyfriend that wasn’t his soulmate. 

He wasn’t sure he could, though. He knew Harry, he was still close to Harry. He would rather be friends for the rest of their lives and live like a spinster than try to find love elsewhere. 

And, well. That’s what having a soulmate is all about, isn’t it?

“I’m sorry, H,” Louis shook himself from his thoughts and remembered to reply. “I can’t imagine.” Except, yeah, he could. It hurt like hell. “You’re incredible for not letting that dictate the rest of your life. ‘M proud of you.”

Harry smiled softly and rolled back over so Louis was spooning him again. “Thanks, Lou. Should sleep, it’s been a long day and we’re supposed to have brunch before their flight tomorrow.”

“Mmm. G’night, babes.”

“G’night, Louis.”

 

~~~~~

 

“C’mon, Lou,” Harry shouted, clipping the new rainbow collar he bought for the occasion onto Ziggy, as well as the matching lead. “I wanna get there soon, we gotta show all the baby gays up!” 

Louis laughed, finally emerging in his favorite jorts, baby blue vans, a plain white tank top, fitted but not ribbed, and a plaid Burberry baseball cap. He wasn’t about to admit that he had spent a solid ten minutes in front of the mirror, making sure that no matter how he twisted, the tanktop didn’t expose his mark. 

He was 29 years old and this was his first pride. When he was younger he either lived too far away from pride or was too scared to go, especially alone with no other queer friends. As he got older and moved to London, he felt like he wasn’t loud enough about his sexuality or identity to parade around with hundreds of others. Harry, on the other hand, had been going every year, and with enough convincing from him, Louis found himself talked into attending this year.

“You look hot.” Harry winked. “Come on, for realsies, Lou.” He handed Louis Ziggy’s leash and grabbed his small backpack full of water and snacks. “Oh, I got you something,” he remembered, pulling out a small trans flag from his bag. “You don’t have to have it out at all, but it’s there if you want it. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

Louis smiled and accepted it, running his fingers over the pale blue and pink stripes. “Thanks, H,” he murmured, afraid his voice would give if he said much more. He had always been comfortable in his skin and willing to fight to be whom he was meant to be, but he had never been outwardly proud, never shared with strangers his journey. He loved how Harry gently encouraged it, but on Louis’ own terms. Louis stuck the flag in his backpack, stick secure inside while the small piece of tricolor fabric stuck out. 

“Any time.” Harry smiled sweetly, giving Louis Ziggy’s rainbow leash. The pair headed out Louis’ door, phones occasionally chirping with updates from Liam, Zayn, and Niall on how soon they would be there and what they wanted to do. Ziggy was trotting along happily in front of them, occasionally looking over her shoulder to check in since this clearly wasn’t the normal route they were taking. It only took a few minutes for the trio to walk to the edge of the festivities. 

“Wow,” Louis laughed, a smile sneaking its way onto his face and threatening to stay permanently. There were people like him and Harry, dressed normally with maybe a bit of pride gear as an accent, and then there were people in only Speedos with the rest of their body painted like a flag, drag queens out in full gear, families with kids all holding flags, and more. It was magical. 

He and Harry wound through the kiosks of vendors and pride groups and churches preaching love for all, moseying around to find their friends so the group could go grab a spot for the parade. People went out of their way to pet Ziggy, fascinated by the goofy looking dog. She lapped it up, as if she never got any attention at home. They got a notification that Niall started sharing his location with them, and the two started trying to migrate towards his dot. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Louis whined as beer was poured all over his white tank. The six foot man in studded leather that had bumped into him shouted an apology, but kept moving through the crowds. “I hate being sticky,” he groaned, pinching the shirt and holding it away from his skin. The sensation was awful, and he found himself quickly losing patience for the day—as much fun as he was having, it was still a big step outside his comfort zone to be in such large crowds. One or two instances like this and his day could take a dramatic turn. 

“No worries, babes,” Harry soothed, gently tugging Louis in between a couple of vendor tents. “I brought wet wipes.” He used his body to shield the crowd from Louis’ view and pulled them out of his bag. 

“Shirt off, come on,” Harry said, helping it off of his friend without thought. “You can wear mine, I’ll go without or buy a new one.” He gently wiped off the sticky liquid, hardly paying attention to the surgical scars or tattoos that he had never been allowed to see until his eyes settled over the small black word over Louis left pec. 

Louis froze, eyes wide, ready to bolt and make an escape. He didn’t want Harry’s pity, didn’t want to have his best friend know he was in love with him, but Harry could only smile. 

“You ridiculous, ridiculous boy,” he whispered. “Can I kiss you?”

“I- what?” Louis whispered, mind being pulled in too many directions to keep up. “But, I lied? I said I hadn’t found my soulmate. You aren’t mad?”

“Louis, I lied too. I was terrified there was a mixup when you didn’t react to my name that night at the gallery, so I followed your lead and never said anything.”

“So I… you…” Louis stammered. His skin felt like little lightning bolts were zipping around, as if fate were screaming, “Yes! Finally!”

Harry undid the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugged it off, revealing the tiny ‘Louis’ printed next to his birdcage. 

“Oh my god,” Louis whimpered, before promptly throwing himself into Harry’s arms. 

“Oi, there ya fuckers are! Zayn, Liam, I found em!” Louis could hear Niall’s familiar voice. “And they finally got their heads out their asses!” 

“What?” Zayn and Liam both yelped, pushing through the crowds to join Niall in staring at the two as they embraced. 

“Fucking finally,” Zayn laughed, snapping a picture to send to Trish and Jay. 

Louis simply flipped Zayn off, heart feeling whole for the first time in his life. 

 

~~~~~

 

“What do you think?” a voice behind Louis spoke, startling Louis so badly he nearly spilled his wine. He had been standing in front of the same painting for an undetermined amount of time, some huge 6 by 6 foot monstrosity, a mess of soft blues and purples and browns. Louis squinted at the small card next to it that read _“Love”, Oil on Canvas, Harry Styles, 2020._

“I love it,” Louis said honestly. “It looks a mess, like a toddler got into someone’s paints. Just like love.” He turned around, grinning up at his soulmate, standing on tip-toe to kiss Harry. “The gallery is incredible, love. I’m so proud.” He looked around the room, an entire gallery devoted solely to Harry’s works on the 28th floor of his newly completed spiral building. 

“Thank you,” Harry smiled softly, returning the kiss. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Harry, darling, there you are!” JoyLee swept upon them, kissing Harry on each cheek. “I love the whole room, darling, the way it’s broken up by chapters of your life, just gorgeous… oh, look at it! It’s magnificent!” she breathed, admiring the centerpiece of the entire gallery, Love. “How much?” 

Harry smiled softly, winking at Louis. “I’m afraid nothing on this wall is for sale, JoyLee, but I do have a few pieces you might enjoy,” he said, leading her away from the wall titled Louis.

The first time Louis fell in love with Harry was the moment he laid eyes on him in front of a room full of people. 

The second time Louis fell in love with Harry was when he finally allowed himself to accept that maybe, just maybe, he can trust the man fate chose for him. 

The third time Louis fell in love with Harry was the day he found out fate hadn’t messed it up, that they were meant for eachother. 

There isn’t a last time, because every day he finds something new to fall in love with.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> inspiration for louis spiral building: 
> 
>  
> 
> [one](http://austin.culturemap.com/news/real-estate/10-27-16-the-independent-jenga-tallest-tower-downtown-austin/#slide=0)  
> [two](https://nypost.com/2017/08/25/pfizer-set-to-move-into-the-spiral-on-far-west-side/)  
> [three](https://interestingengineering.com/evolution-tower-moscow-city-spiral-architectural-landmark)  
> [four](https://www.trendir.com/strange-spiral-seashell-house-in-finland/)  
> [five](https://interiorzine.com/2014/01/03/market-space-with-a-friendly-industrial-atmosphere/)
> 
>  
> 
> inspiration for harry's art  
> [one](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/352195633337163878/)  
> [two](https://www.thecut.com/2016/07/why-do-so-many-artists-have-synesthesia.html)  
> [three](https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Blue-Art-Painting-Blue-Abstract-Art-Blue-Ocean-Art-Blue-Abstract-Fine-Art-Painting-Modern-Art-Painting-Abstract-Dreaming-7-Gold-Coast-Shine-2-0/698294/3558177/view)


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